


Of Demons And Hunters

by LilyAnson



Series: To Hell And Back [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse, Blood and Torture, Canon Divergence, Enochian, Explicit Language, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Protective Meg (eventually), Raphael Alive, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAnson/pseuds/LilyAnson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if, after he gave the colt to the Winchesters, Crowley was captured by Lucifer?  This is the story of one demon struggling to survive, one angel struggling to assert his dominance and two hunters caught in the middle.</p><p>Consider this more or less like a prologue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend you’ve watch all through 5x22 (Swan Song). Not only is there spoilers my story may get confusing in places if you do not have the background. As always, it's your call.

Under any other circumstances Crowley wouldn’t have bothered to struggle. Under any other circumstances he would have strode forward defiantly with his head held high and an arrogant smirk. Under any other circumstance he wouldn’t be half as frantic as he was right now. Sadly, no scratch that. Terrifyingly, this wasn’t just any other circumstance. This was Lucifer they were taking him to see.

Crowley desperately fought against the demons dragging him forward. Reasoning with them was useless. There was nothing he could offer them to make them betray Lucifer. No demon would ever be that stupid. Finally the procession entered the throne room. Crowley dug his heals in and leaned backward trying to break free. It was no use. Against his will he was pulled across the room and in front of the throne. 

“Welcome,” stated an icy voice.

Crowley froze unable to move.

“Release him.”

The second the demons released him Crowley dropped to his knees. It wasn’t that he intentionally wanted to kneel before Lucifer, rather his legs refused to hold him upright. Please let him kill me, Crowley begged mentally. 

“You should have known better than to work against me.”

Crowley remained quiet and kept his eyes focused on the floor in front of him.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Crowley shook his head.

“You know what I despise the most about you demons,” Lucifer asked.

Crowley shook his head once again. Before he finished shaking his head pain racked his body. Crowley dropped to the ground twisting, trying desperately to ease the pain. His lungs seized in pain, keeping him from being able to breathe.

“I asked you a direct question,” Lucifer bellowed. “You will answer me when I ask you a direct question.”

Writhing on the ground Crowley clamped his jaw shut. He couldn’t stop the small moans of pain but he wouldn’t give Lucifer the satisfaction of hearing him beg. He had never begged in his life and he wouldn’t start now. Suddenly the steady stream of pain eased slightly.

“Let’s try this again.”

Lucifer stood and walked over to where Crowley was lying on the floor.

“Do you know what I despise the most about you demons,” Lucifer asked again.

“No,” Crowley managed. His voice came out rough and his throat hurt.

“You break too easy. I’ve known humans with more spine than some demons.”

Crowley panted in pain. No matter how much it hurt now it was only going to get worse. The only thing he could do was suffer through it and do his damnedest not to beg. Lucifer began to walk slowly around Crowley.

“Kneel,” Lucifer commanded.

Struggling Crowley finally managed to sit on his knees. It was the best he could do for the moment. Weaving back and forth he did his best to stay upright.

“Now stay that way,” Lucifer ordered.

Once again Crowley was racked with pain. He tried his best to remain on his knees but he fell forward. Catching himself with one hand on the floor he shoved himself back onto his knees. The pain intensified. Doubling over he fell forward and curled into a ball rocking himself back and forth. The thread of power pouring pain into him stopped. It didn’t lessen the pain already present but at least it wasn’t being added to either.

“Hmm. Perhaps there is more fight in you than I thought. Take him to my quarters,” Lucifer ordered.

Crowley’s head shot up at the remark. Lucifer’s quarters? As the demons grabbed his arms Crowley began to struggle once again. Due to the amount of pain he was in the struggles were weak at best. As he felt himself being drug from the throne room he knew things were only going to get worse. 

A few demons sneered at him as he was drug past but most looked away. He wasn’t sure if it was because they felt sorry for him or if they feared being too close to the object of Lucifer’s ire would turn that rage against them. Crowley finally gave up the ineffectual struggling as they exited the throne room. He settled for inspecting the halls to see where they were headed in the unlikely event he did get the chance to escape. 

His eyes widened slightly when he realized they had arrived at his own quarters. In a perverse way it actually made sense. Crowley’s quarters weren’t exactly the most decadent but they were the most warded. There would be no need to set up extra warding to protect the rooms. One of the demons reached for the door and Crowley held his breath. As soon as the demon turned the doorknob he was incinerated. Crowley couldn’t suppress a small smile. Roughly he was yanked to his feet. 

“Open it,” one of the demons ordered.

Crowley lifted his head, and spat.

The demon brought his arm back to strike him and Crowley grinned. Maybe he could rile these demons up enough to kill him before Lucifer could hurt him any more. Abruptly a blade appeared through the demon’s chest. Crowley watched the demon die and fall to the ground. As the demon fell he saw the last demon he ever wanted to see in a moment like this.

“Meg,” Crowley growled.

“You were expecting someone else?” Meg leaned forward and put her mouth next to his ear. “A Winchester maybe,” she whispered.

Crowley growled at her.

Meg drew back and grinned. Reaching down she roughly grabbed Crowley’s hand and jerked his arm forward. Placing his hand on the knob she squeezed his hand closed over the knob and turned. The door swung open. She turned back to the other demons present.

“Was that _really_ so hard?”

The other demons averted their eyes and none spoke.

“So you’re Lucifer’s little whore are you,” Crowley asked.

“Actually, Crowley, that would be you,” Meg sneered.

Crowley had to work not to show any emotion at that statement. Hell was use or be used; abuse or be abused. Crowley had worked hard to get where he was so that he would never be the abused again. The thought of being used like that again, especially by someone like Lucifer, terrified him. 

“Well? Get him inside, now,” Meg ordered.

Rough hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him forward. Crowley finally understanding his fate, began a renewed resistance. After only a few seconds he felt a knife at his throat. Glancing down he spied a demon blade.

“You won’t kill me. If Lucifer wants me alive you wouldn’t dare kill me.”

“Oh I’m not going to kill you. But I do have permission to do anything short of killing you to ensure that you cooperate. As you know, some things are worse than death,” Meg hissed into his ear.

*-*-*-*-*

Crowley passed the time clearing his mind. Certain modifications had been made to his rooms. None the least of which was the set of iron shackles hanging from the ceiling that he was currently suspended from. As his own weight hung on his wrists the iron bit into his skin as well as burning it. Crowley focused on taking deep steady breaths. As painful as this was it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It was eminently more preferable to what would happen soon enough.

If he could just clear his mind maybe he could relegate the pain to the back of his mind so it wouldn’t be as bad. He knew full well this was a stupid thought. There was no way to block any of what was to come. Right now hope that it would work was the only thing keeping him from complete panic so he continued to focus on clearing his mind.

The door opened and Crowley felt his heart beat faster. Letting his eyes drift closed he tried to remain calm. In and out, he reminded himself. Just breathe. You survived everything else you can get through this. When he felt the presence of someone standing just in front of him he tried to ignore what his brain was telling him. Despite his best efforts it was impossible to lie to himself. Grace had a very specific feel to it and there was currently only one angel in hell. Just breathe, he reminded himself.

A hand gripped the hair at the back of his head and pulled. His head canted backward and Crowley struggled to keep his breathing even. A cool finger rested alongside his jaw. Slowly it began to travel down his jawbone. The slowness with which it traveled only added to Crowley’s sense of trepidation. The hand holding his head backward released it’s hold but Crowley didn’t move.

“Did you really think your plan would work,” Lucifer asked softly.

“I hoped,” Crowley answered. It was difficult speaking with his head still canted backward but he didn’t dare _not_ answer. He would do almost anything to postpone the inevitable. 

“Crowley?”

“Yes,” Crowley whispered. He could feel himself beginning to tremble.

“Look at me,” Lucifer ordered.

Slowly Crowley leaned his head forward until he was facing straight ahead. Casting his eyes downward he finally opened them. He could see the tips of Lucifer’s shoes. Just breath, Crowley tried to remind himself.

“What have I ever done that would make you want to kill me?”

“You…” Crowley’s voice caught in his throat and he licked his lips before he began again. “You hate humans. You’re going to wipe them out. After that… I… I don’t want…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to die,” Crowley whispered.

“So you thought you’d kill me instead?”

“I…”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” Crowley whispered dropping his head and sliding his eyes shut. 

A cold finger pressed against the bottom of his chin. Crowley lifted his chin until the pressure stopped. Lucifer’s finger rested deceptively gently on the bottom of his chin. Leaning forward Lucifer rested his cheek against Crowley’s cheek. The trembling increased. 

“Open your eyes,” Lucifer whispered.

Crowley’s eyes shot open. For a moment all he could see was the top of Lucifer’s shoulder and part of the wall in front of him. Then Lucifer drew back. The eyes from the vessel Lucifer was currently using were an icy blue. 

“I forgive you,” Lucifer stated.

Crowley frowned and blinked in confusion.

“You don’t think I’m capable of forgiveness,” Lucifer asked raising an eyebrow.

“I… I just don’t…” Crowley paused and took a deep breath. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“You don’t expect an angel to be able to forgive?”

“I didn’t expect _you_ to forgive _me_ ,” Crowley stated quietly. 

“There’s a lot about me that might surprise you.”

Not a direct question so Crowley didn’t answer.

“I’m waiting.”

Crowley lowered his brows in confusion. 

“I don’t know what you want,” Crowley finally admitted.

“A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” Crowley stated quietly.

“Was that really so hard?”

“No,” Crowley whispered. Yes, he thought to himself.

“Now,” Lucifer said rubbing his hands together. “On to the punishment.”

Crowley’s eye’s widened and his mouth parted. He struggled trying to find something to say but words eluded him.

“You’re really surprised I’m going to punish you?”

Crowley slumped in the chains. No, he wasn’t really surprised.

“The question is, what would be the most effective punishment? Pain alone would be a complete waste on you. It’d keep you submissive enough while I have an eye on you. The problem with pain alone is you would bide your time until you could find a way to retaliate. No, we’re going to have to find something else. Suggestions?”

Crowley opened his mouth to tell Lucifer he could let him slide this once but Lucifer cut him off before Crowley could speak.

“Realistic suggestions,” Lucifer amended raising an eyebrow.

Crowley snapped his mouth shut. 

Lucifer shook his head. “I thought as much.”

“You could kill me,” Crowley suggested. “It would save you the problem of finding a suitable punishment.”

Lucifer smiled and let out a small chuckle.

“I like your sense of humor. You know, Crowley, under other circumstances we could have been friends.”

“You wouldn’t make friends with a demon.”

“True enough,” Lucifer answered dismissively. “That still leaves us with the problem of finding a suitable punishment for you trying to kill me.”

Lucifer’s eyes drifted upward to the chains holding Crowley and he cocked his head slightly as if in thought. Crowley felt the small trembles start to return but did his best to push them away. Just breath, he reminded himself. In and out. Eventually this too shall end. Lucifer reached up and drug one finger slowly from Crowley’s wrist to his shoulder. Despite his best efforts Crowley lost his battle against the trembles and began to shake slightly. Dropping his head his eyes slid closed.

“Interesting,” Lucifer observed. “You don’t like being touched?”

“I like initiating it when it happens,” Crowley mumbled.

“Ah. So you like being the one in control. I wonder how you would fare if you weren’t the one in control.”

“I haven’t been in control since I returned.”

“To a mild degree you have had the ability to influence certain outcomes of your captivity.”

Crowley didn’t respond.

“I wonder what would happen if I took even that from you.”

Lucifer snapped and Crowley fell to the ground. Crowley groaned as his body hit the floor. Thankfully the carpeting was thick. Lucifer bent down and placed a hand on the back of Crowley’s neck. Squeezing tightly he lifted the Crowley and threw him across the room. Hitting the wall first Crowley finally fell to the bed. _Will not beg_ , he told himself.

Crowley heard another snap and felt the cool air against his skin as his clothing disappeared. Inhaling deeply Crowley steeled his nerves and waited for the inevitable. Strong hands gripped his wrists and pulled his arms straight. As Lucifer pulled Crowley was forced to turn to accommodate the movement. He ended up laying flat on his stomach. The cuts on his wrists stung but he ignored the pain. Lucifer’s breath ghosted over Crowley’s ear as the angel leaned down.

“Do not move unless I move you or I order it. Understand?”

Crowley nodded.

Lucifer backhanded Crowley.

“You will answer me when I ask you a question,” Lucifer raged.

Crowley’s head wobbled slightly. As he tried to regain his bearings Lucifer backhanded him again. Crowley felt something trickle down his cheek; blood most likely, Crowley’s mind told him. Lucifer wrapped his fingers in Crowley’s hair and pulled. Crowley’s head was drawn backward painfully. If Lucifer pulled much further he might break the vessels neck, Crowley thought absently. 

“Do you understand me?”

Crowley desperately tried to answer. The problem was, with his head tilted back this far he couldn’t speak. “Y.. Y…”

Lucifer released Crowley’s hair and gripped his jaw instead. His fingers dug in painfully and Crowley had to fight to keep from lashing out and defending himself. Fighting back would only make Lucifer angrier. He opened his mouth again trying desperately to answer.

“Answer me!”

“Yes,” Crowley managed.

His voice was quiet and the word was muffled but at least he managed to speak. Or he hoped he had anyway. It was difficult to focus on anything beyond Lucifer’s grip. For a while neither moved. Crowley couldn’t hear anything other than the heart of his vessel beating his is own ears. Finally Lucifer’s fingers released his jaw.

A cool finger lightly touched his face just below his ear. Crowley flinched.

“Shh,” Lucifer whispered.

Slowly Lucifer trailed his finger down Crowley’s cheek. Removing the finger he held it in front of Crowley’s face. Blinking several times Crowley tried to focus. He could see blood covering the end of Lucifer’s finger. Lucifer pressed the finger to Crowley’s lips and then inside Crowley’s mouth.

“Clean it,” Lucifer whispered. 

Closing his lips around the finger Crowley ran his tongue around it cleaning off the blood. My blood, Crowley thought numbly. When Lucifer’s other hand settled on his head Crowley flinched again.

“Shh,” Lucifer whispered. “Continue.”

As Crowley continued to run his tongue around the finger Lucifer began to pet him.

“Good boy,” Lucifer murmured.

Finally Lucifer removed the finger but continued to pet him. Crowley fought against his instincts screaming for him to defend himself. Lucifer was in control. For now. Later, Crowley pacified himself. He would find a way out of this and retaliate later. For now he would do what was required and bide his time.

Lucifer’s hand drifted from stroking Crowley’s hair down to Crowley’s back. Crowley whimpered and Lucifer shushed him again. The touch was deceptively gentle but Crowley wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

“Why do you insist on provoking me,” Lucifer asked.

“Didn’t mean to,” Crowley mumbled.

“You will eventually learn,” Lucifer informed him. “How long your training lasts depends on you. Now, shall we have some fun?”

“We?”

Lucifer chuckled. “Point to you. Okay then, shall _I_ have some fun?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Careful,” Lucifer growled. “One might think you were getting an attitude.”

Crowley didn’t respond.

“So you can learn. Good.”

As Crowley watched, Lucifer pulled out an angel blade. A smiled crossed the angel’s face as he continued to eye Crowley intently. Slowly Lucifer reached out with the hand not holding the blade and trailed his fingers down Crowley’s back.

“Such perfect, unmarked skin. Let’s see what we can do about that, shall we?”

Placing the knife against Crowley’s right shoulder blade Lucifer began carving. Crowley pressed his teeth together to keep from crying out. The pain radiated through his back. Angel blades contained traces of Grace, where as demon blades did not. Wounds left by an angel blade on a demon took a long time to fully heal and that was when the demon could use his powers to heal himself. Somehow Crowley doubted Lucifer would allow him that luxury. The knife scraped against Crowley’s shoulder blade and Crowley shuddered.

“I’d try not to move if I were you. You don’t want to take the chance I’d slip and actually _hurt_ you do you?”

There was a few seconds of silence before Lucifer cleared his throat.

“No,” Crowley managed to gasp. 

“Good, so we’re in agreement then.”

Lucifer went back to work carving into Crowley’s flesh. The pain was excruciating. It took a while before Crowley realized Lucifer was carving symbols into his back. With how much it hurt Crowley couldn’t concentrate on what the symbols were. Every time Luifer finished one it flared painfully for several seconds. Time seemed to stretch on forever.

Crowley did his best not to move as the knife sliced through flesh and muscles alike. When Lucifer would scrape against a bone occasionally it was almost impossible to remain still but somehow he managed. After who knew how long Lucifer finally stopped carving and placed a hand on top of the fresh cuts. 

“Beautiful,” Lucifer whispered running his fingers over his handiwork.

The pain was already getting to be too much and they had just begun. In all likelihood this wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. At least not until Lucifer was sure he had driven his point home. Against his will Crowley let out a soft whine. 

“Painful?”

Crowley whimpered.

“The pain is more of a tool than the actual punishment. You’ll understand eventually.” Lucifer paused for a second. “Well, hopefully you’ll understand eventually. The longer it takes you to get it the longer these sessions will last.”

Sessions? As in more than one? Crowley fought against the urge to attack his tormentor. His body shook with the effort of remaining still when Lucifer returned to slicing him open. Blood ran down Crowley’s sides and pooled on the bed around him. Before long his vessel began to shiver. Despite his best efforts he couldn’t stop the shakes this time. The vessel had suffered too much blood loss.

“Crowley,” Lucifer warned.

“B-b-b-lood… l-loss,” Crowley stuttered.

When Lucifer placed his hand against Crowley’s back his body jerked away involuntarily.

“S-s-sorry,” Crowley stammered. “Hurts.”

“Would you like me to heal it?”

Heal? Was that a trick question?

“Crowley,” Lucifer growled.

“Yes,” Crowley whispered.

“Beg me.”

Beg? His body pleaded with him to break down and beg, if only just this once. His mind, however, rebelled at the mere thought. Crowley fought with himself, agonizing over the decision. Could he justify it? Just this once? It wouldn’t be just once, he reminded himself. There would be more of these ‘sessions’. If he gave in now what would stop him from giving in the next time?

“I’m waiting.”

Crowley shook his head; he couldn’t do it. If he gave in now he would be lost. He had to hold out for as long as he could.

“You don’t want to be healed?”

“W-won’t… beg.”

“Ah, I see. So the next session I’ll have to make sure to pay attention. That way we can have more fun before you cannot continue. Looks like we’re going to have to change tactics for this round. Sadly too much more fun with the angel blade would defeat the purpose of these sessions,” Lucifer stated apologetically. 

Crowley fought the urge to laugh hysterically at that statement. 

“Now remember, any time you want some relief all you have to do is ask me.”

The bed shifted as Lucifer climbed into the bed and straddled him. Still shivering uncontrollably Crowley tried to blank his mind. Just the idea of what was about to happen was enough to make him tremble without the blood loss. Lucifer's fingers ran over the cuts lightly.

"Beautiful," Lucifer whispered.

*-*-*-*-*

Cautiously Meg reached out and touched the doorknob. Lucifer had assured her that he had altered whatever warding Crowley had placed on the knob but it didn’t quite quell her apprehension. When she wasn’t disintegrated on the spot she breathed a sigh of relief. Opening the door she let herself in and closed the door.

Lucifer had tasked her with keeping an eye on Crowley. As long as she didn’t cause any permanent damage or kill Crowley she could do almost anything she wanted. There was quite a lot of things she’d like to do to Crowley. After everything he had done to her she was owed some payback. Walking to the bedroom she opened the door and stared. 

The room looked like a murder scene. Crowley lay on the floor unmoving near the far left wall. She was prepared for there to be injuries and blood but this was beyond anything she had imagined. Cuts, bruises and blood covered almost all of Crowley’s body. Most of the cuts still oozed blood. Lucifer had warned her that Crowley might require a little medical attention. 

Walking over to where Crowley lay Meg looked down at him. Crowley gave a soft whimper and tried to back away. His right arm didn’t seem to be working well. Seeming to realize he wouldn’t be able to escape Crowley curled up into a ball and whimpered. Meg frowned. If Lucifer wanted Crowley patched up to be able to continue his punishments later there wasn’t much she could to Crowley right now besides clean him. By the look of things Crowley would probably need a few days before anyone could do anything else to him. Sighing heavily Meg bent down and started to turn Crowley over for a better look. The second Meg touched his shoulder Crowley jerked away.

“No. Promised,” Crowley mumbled.

“Shut up and let me get a better look,” Meg ordered.

“Promised,” Crowley repeated. “Not time yet.”

“I said shut up and let me look at you.”

Crowley began to shake and didn’t respond. Meg reached down and grabbed his shoulder. This time Crowley didn’t fight her as she turned him over. His stomach wasn’t as bad as his back but it was still pretty bad. What Lucifer had already done to Crowley surpassed every scenario Meg had envisioned and she knew Lucifer was far from done. Crowley would have long since been dead if he hadn’t been a demon.

Lucifer refused to heal Crowley or let him heal himself. If Crowley was going to get patched up she was going to have to do it manually. Releasing his shoulder Meg huffed in annoyance. She had better things to do with her time than take care of Crowley. Summoning a basin of water and a washcloth Meg inspected the ground. It took a few seconds to find a place to sit where she wouldn’t get Crowley’s blood on her.

*-*-*-*-*

Crowley’s eyes shot open and for a few seconds he wondered if he was blind. The room was completely dark but his eyes finally adjusted to the dimness. He could make out shadows of objects. Damn he hurt everywhere. Groaning softly he started to roll onto his side before abandoning that idea. It hurt too much to move. 

He could heal himself. Lucifer had ordered him not to but what else could Lucifer do to hurt him? It didn’t seem possible to hurt any more than he already was hurting. Crowley finally turned over slowly. Placing his hands carefully but firmly on the ground he took a deep breath. He let out a groan as he stood. Once he was on his feet he wobbled slightly. The lamp near his bed turned on and Crowley’s head instantly shot in that direction.

“Crowley?”

Meg sat in the chair next to the bed. What was she doing here?

“You shouldn’t be standing,” she informed him.

“Why are you here?”

“Lucifer ordered me to take care of you.”

Crowley eyed her suspiciously. “Take care of me how?” he asked.

“Just sit down and shut up.”

Crowley didn’t really feel like trying to sit down on the floor again. He wasn’t sure if he could make it back down without falling flat on his face. Glancing to the bed he shuddered at the sight of his blood covering it. If he was careful maybe he could sit on the frame?

“Sit. Now.”

Sighing Crowley hobbled closer to the wall. With the bottoms of his feet sliced to ribbons each step was agony. When he was close enough he put his left hand on the wall and lowered himself back to the ground. Even the smallest movement caused intense pain. When he was finally seated Meg stood and walked over to him.

“If you fucked up my first aid I’m so going to hurt you. The last thing I want to do is fix you multiple times because you had to be stupid.”

“Sorry,” Crowley muttered.

Meg scoffed at the apology and Crowley couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t really all that sorry, he just really didn’t want to be punished any more. He needed time to heal. With Meg here he didn’t dare heal himself even a little. If she reported it back to Lucifer who knew what Lucifer would do to him next.

“How long was I out of it?” 

“Since I arrived, now shut up and let me look at your feet.”

Crowley straightened his legs. He remained quiet as Meg inspected the bottoms of his feet. When she pressed against them Crowley winced and hissed in pain. Meg glared at him and Crowley pressed his lips together to keep from making another sound. Finally Meg released his feet and sat back on her heels. 

“No new damage to your feet or, more importantly, my first aid. I mean it, though. If you fuck up anything I had to do to treat you I will hurt you.”

Crowley nodded silently.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Lucifer… removed them.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I mean where are the rest of them.”

“Oh. Uh. Most of my stuff is hanging in the closet, but…”

“But?”

“In the dresser, top left drawer, there’s sleepwear. I think I might do better in that than a suit,” Crowley answered quietly, not meeting her eyes.

Meg strode over to the dresser and opened the top left drawer. Grabbing a set of his sleepwear she made her way back and tossed the clothes into his lap. Crowley untangled the pants from the top. Setting the top aside for now he glanced from the pants to his legs. Sighing heavily he started to bend his left leg slowly. He paused briefly as the pain made his vision blur slightly. Taking a deep breath he bent his leg a little more. Eventually he managed to get his leg into the pants. Leaning back against the wall Crowley closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Meg growled.

“Going as fast as I can,” Crowley informed her without opening his eyes.

Hearing movement he finally opened his eyes. When he saw Meg stalking towards him he flinched backward. When she was close enough she knelt down and grabbed his right leg and helped him finish putting on his sleep pants.

“Thank you,” Crowley mumbled.

“Quiet,” Meg huffed.

Not wanting to press his luck Crowley stayed quiet. Meg grabbed the shirt next and ordered him to hold his arms out. Crowley stretched his arms out in front of him. Meg slipped the top over his arms first and then his head. 

“Lean forward.”

Crowley leaned forward slightly and Meg pulled the shirt down. When it pulled against his shoulders Crowley winced again. Finally Meg leaned back and inspected him. Crowley gave a slight nod of appreciation.

“It’s nothing. I just didn’t want to have to stare at you naked the whole time I’m going to be here,” Meg grumbled.

Crowley said another thank you to Meg mentally. He did actually feel slightly better now that he had clothing covering him. The clothes restricted movement by pressing against the wounds when he would shift or move but at least he was covered. 

“Meg?”

“What now?”

“In the closet on the top shelf is clean blanket. Would you mind…”

“Seriously?”

Crowley glanced to the bed and shivered again at the sight of his blood covering it.

“Never mind.”

Using the wall he lowered himself until he was laying down. Attempting to tuck his hands under his head he found it too painful to move his right arm. Letting the right arm lay where it was he tucked his left hand under his head. He curled his legs as much as he could without them hurting too much. Closing his eyes Crowley tried to focus on clearing his mind and relegating the pain to the background.

“Damn it,” Meg muttered.

Cracking one eye open Crowley peered over at Meg. With a huff of annoyance Meg stood and made her way to the closet. Yanking the doors open she looked up and grabbed one of the blankets sitting on the top shelf. Turning she tossed the blanket across the room. The blanket struck the wall just behind him and dropped onto Crowley’s side.

“Thank you,” Crowley whispered.

“Whatever.”

Crowley bit the corner of his lip.

“How long,” he asked quietly.

“How long what,” Meg snapped.

“Until… Until he returns?”

“You really that eager to see him again?”

Crowley blanched. “No,” he whispered.

Carefully he unfolded the blanket and draped it over his body. Gripping tightly onto the edge of the blanket with his left hand he closed his eyes. He returned to trying to clear his head and consigning the pain to the back of his mind.

*-*-*-*-*

At the sound of the door to the main room opening Crowley’s eyes shot open. Staring at the open door to the bedroom Crowley held his breath and waited. Much to his relief it wasn’t Lucifer that walked into the room. The demon that entered the room stopped near the door and stared at him. Crowley didn’t move.

“You need something,” Meg asked.

The new arrival finally turned to face Meg.

“You’re needed in the throne room,” he informed her.

Meg was leaving? Panic started to grip Crowley. Meg he knew. Sure she hated him but she was loyal to Lucifer. If Lucifer wanted to hurt him later he needed time to recover. Meg wouldn’t hurt him because Lucifer would need him healed. This new demon he wasn’t so sure about. Crowley bit the corner of his lip and waited.

“Needed by who,” Meg asked.

“Who do you think?”

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” Meg warned.

Crowley knew that tone. If the other demon wasn’t careful Meg might just gut him before making her way to the throne room. She wouldn’t even give it a second thought. If the other demon had any common sense he would change his tone before she did just that.

“Pardon me, I didn’t realize I was talking to royalty,” the demon snarked.

“Watch it,” Meg warned again.

Crowley shifted backward and pressed himself against the wall. The contact caused his injuries to flare painfully but he really didn’t want to be caught in the midst of what was fixing to happen. Hunching over he tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Or what,” the demon challenged.

When Meg started forward Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and waited. For a while there was nothing but silence. Fairly soon he heard the sound of scuffling. Squeezing his eyes closed even more tightly he continued to wait. Finally, after some time, everything went quiet. Unable to resist his curiosity Crowley cracked one eye open. Meg was standing over the new arrival clutching a bloody demon blade.

“Jackass,” Meg muttered.

Turning Meg eyed him; Crowley remained still.

“Get up,” Meg ordered.

Frowning Crowley cautiously untensed his muscles. Carefully he moved the covers so that they weren’t sitting on top of any of the blood covering the carpet. With a hand to the wall he slowly made his way to his feet. 

“Since you’re not supposed to be left alone you’re coming with me,” Meg informed him.

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat at the thought of leaving these rooms. At least in here he knew he was safe. Out there, in the open, who knew what would happen. The longer he thought about it the more he realized it didn’t matter. The worst that could happen to him was already happening. What could be worse than Lucifer constantly torturing him? Turning to Meg Crowley gave a slight nod. Using the wall as a brace he made his way to the door.

“Stop,” Meg ordered.

Crowley stopped walking and turned to face Meg.

“ _You’re_ not allowed to use your powers. _I_ am. I won’t have you trying to walk all the way there and making your injuries worse. My orders were to patch you up and keep you alive. I’m not letting you make my job any more difficult than needed.”

Walking over Meg grabbed Crowley’s upper arm and Crowley winced. Meg rolled her eyes but loosened her grip. Instantly they blinked to the throne room. A demon stood near the throne talking with Lucifer too quietly to hear. When Crowley and Meg arrived Lucifer and the demon talking with him turned and inspected them. Crowley tensed under the scrutiny, instantly suspicious. Lucifer gave the demon a slight nod and the demon blinked away. Even with the demon gone Crowley continued to remain suspicious.

“I sent for you,” Lucifer stated coolly. “I did not send for him.”

Crowley couldn’t help the small flinch at the sound of Lucifer’s voice.

“The demon you sent to watch him was a jackass,” Meg answered.

“Oh?”

“You told me I had to keep an eye on him. You didn’t tell me I had to take shit from other demons.”

“Indeed,” Lucifer stated blandly. “Over here.”

Meg put her hand back on Crowley’s upper arm and began to lead him over to where Lucifer sat. Crowley stumbled after only a few steps and mumbled an apology. Meg paused briefly but didn’t acknowledge his apology. Taking a deep breath Crowley started walking once more. When they arrived in front of the throne they stopped. 

“Crowley,” Lucifer growled.

With one final deep breath Crowley raised his head. He didn’t dare meet Lucifer’s eyes without being expressly instructed to do so. He settled for focusing on the angel’s mouth. Lucifer raised a hand and pointed to the left of the throne. Defeatedly Crowley gave a small nod and made his way over to stand next to Lucifer. The last thing he needed or wanted right now was to have to stand next to Lucifer; especially when he would have to see more than enough of him later.

“So tell me,” Lucifer began, “why is he wearing clothes?”

“If I have to spend hours watching over him I’m not doing it with him naked,” Meg answered crossly.

“Hm, I’ll allow it. For now. How are his injuries?”

Crowley bit the corner of his lip again. This was hell, you didn’t openly discuss injuries or weaknesses. Everyone here was always looking for something to use against everyone. Discussing injuries openly was almost a guarantee that someone would use those weaknesses against you. Crowley glanced to Meg from the corner of his eye. Meg shrugged.

“About what you’d expect. They’re going to need time to heal if you plan on continuing with your… fun time.”

Crowley did his best to stifle a growl at the words ‘fun time’. Lucifer held up a finger to pause Meg and turned to Crowley.

“Something you wanted to say?”

Crowley shook his head.

“You sure,” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing,” Crowley mumbled.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said I didn’t have anything to say,” Crowley said slightly louder still not looking directly at Lucifer.

Lucifer continued to stare at him and Crowley shifted uncomfortably. Finally Lucifer turned back to Meg. “Continue,” Lucifer ordered.

“Either you’re going to have to heal him or give him a few days to heal on his own,” Meg stated. “He wouldn’t last long in his present condition.”

“While I appreciate your concern, what I do with my pet is my business and not yours.”

Meg shrugged. “You asked.”

“So I did,” Lucifer answered dismissively. 

Suddenly, without warning, the demon Lucifer had previously been talking to appeared next to them holding a demon blade. Crowley immediately crouched and prepared to defend himself. The demon grabbed Meg by her shirt and flung her sideways. She hit the wall and fell to the ground. As she was struggling to regain her footing the demon started towards her. Without a thought Crowley rushed the demon. Grabbing the demon’s bicep Crowley used his free hand to slam the hand holding the blade into the demon’s own throat. Releasing the demon Crowley backed away and watched as it died. 

As the demon fell to the ground pain from all of Crowley’s injuries shot through his body. Crowley stumbled slightly before falling to the ground next to the dead demon. The last words he heard before he lost consciousness was Lucifer saying, “That was unexpected.”

*-*-*-*-*

Crowley clamped his jaw shut to keep from making a sound as Lucifer carved into him with the angel blade. As Lucifer worked Crowley grimaced against the pain. For whatever reason, Lucifer was retracing the symbols he had carved into Crowley during the last session. Just the same as during the last session, when Lucifer would finish one of the symbols it would flare painfully for several seconds. Crowley had no idea what the symbols were and, at this moment, he honestly didn’t care. He just wanted this to end soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“Perfect,” Lucifer whispered. 

Crowley let out a small whimper. 

“Shh,” Lucifer whispered. “That part’s done. On to other things.”

Crowley desperately tried not to show how much those words terrified him. He felt the bed shift as Lucifer moved. When Lucifer grabbed his ankle Crowley jerked his leg instinctively. Lucifer growled and tightened his grip. 

“Do. Not. Move.”

Crowley let out a soft whimper but remained still. 

“You seem to have much more… ‘control’, than I would like. We’re going to take steps to fix that. You don’t mind do you?”

Crowley let out another soft whimper.

“I didn’t think so. I wouldn’t move if I were you. You might end up injuring yourself more than I would like. That would upset me and I might be forced to punish you.”

Before Crowley could even process those words a sharp stabbing pain pierced through the tendon in his left ankle and shot up his calf. He couldn’t stop the cry of pain that escaped his lips. There was a slight tugging sensation but it was nothing compared to the pain radiating up his calf. Finally Lucifer released Crowley’s left leg. As Lucifer grabbed Crowley’s right leg Crowley tried to pull away. He couldn’t help it. He was already in too much pain to take any more. He had to make this end somehow.

“Stay still,” Lucifer bellowed.

Crowley’s body pressed into the mattress with so much force he wasn’t able to fill his lungs. No matter how much he struggled he couldn’t move. The sensation of Grace skimmed across his skin.

“Stop! No more! Please!”

“Are you actually begging me to stop,” Lucifer asked.

Crowley froze. Was he begging? He definitely _wanted_ to beg. If he did beg maybe Lucifer would take pity and finally stop hurting him. Should he beg?

“Crowley,” Lucifer growled.

“Not… begging,” Crowley managed to grit out.

Without warning a sharp sensation pierced the back of his right ankle. Crowley cried out in pain. He had finally passed his threshold for being able remain silent throughout the torture. 

“You will learn one of these days,” Lucifer stated.

“Fuck you,” Crowley growled. _Mistake_ , his mind informed him seconds before the searing pain of an angel’s Grace shot through his body. 

*-*-*-*-*

Frowning Meg stared at the body before her. While she had expected the injuries and the blood she hadn’t expect it to be this bad. Crowley must have done something to really piss off Lucifer this time. Squatting down she checked for a pulse. Even if Crowley couldn’t die by conventional means, the body could. A demon trapped inside of a body they couldn’t heal didn’t usually fair well. Since it was her job to ensure Crowley’s survival she needed to know if the vessel was still viable. Much to her surprise it was still alive. Barely. It would take some work to ensure that the body continued to survive. 

.

Two hours later Lucifer returned. He stood in the doorway to the bedroom inspecting Crowley for a moment. Striding forward he stopped when he neared Crowley’s still form. Turning to Meg Lucifer raised an eyebrow and waited.

“He’s not doing well. He really needs to be healed,” she informed him.

“Not until he begs,” Lucifer growled.

Meg shrugged. “Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but I thought you wanted him alive to continue torturing him.”

“He _will not_ be healed until he begs,” Lucifer reiterated.

Meg simply shrugged again. Lucifer left without another word and Meg eyed Crowley carefully. There was no way that vessel could stand another round of torture anytime soon. If Lucifer intended to torture Crowley anytime in the next few days he would have to heal Crowley or force him to change vessels. As much as she wanted to see Crowley suffer Lucifer should be focused on more important matters right now. The time Lucifer was expending toying with Crowley could be better served trying to convince Sam Winchester to say yes.

Crowley whimpered in his sleep as Meg continued to watch him. Her eyes drifted to the iron chain running from one ankle to the other. It was hooked to iron rings embedded in Crowley’s ankles. Meg winced at the very idea. A demon with iron embedded into their flesh had to hurt beyond belief. She was going to have to will his sleep pants over him with the chains connecting his ankles. Crowley whimpered again and began to shake slightly. Blood loss, Meg reasoned. With the amount of blood Crowley had lost the vessel was probably having a hard time coping.

Making her way to the closet she pulled out the blanket she had thrown at Crowley yesterday. The body was going to need to be kept warm until it could replenish some of the blood it had lost. Walking over to where Crowley lay shivering on the floor she hesitated. Why should she worry about what Crowley needed? He had never thought twice about torturing her. I’m doing this for Lucifer, she reminded herself, not Crowley.

.

Crowley opened his eyes and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he was awake or still asleep. Light shone into the bedroom from the open door to the main room. Everything hurt beyond belief. Without moving any other part of his body Crowley shifted his eyes searching for any sign of Lucifer. If this was a dream then Lucifer would be around here somewhere. 

Stupid, Crowley thought to himself. Whether or not he was dreaming Lucifer would be here soon enough. If Lucifer wasn’t here right now Crowley needed to take stock of the injuries and see what he could do about mending some of them. With a groan Crowley attempted to sit up. It took a few tries but eventually he finally managed it. Staring at the blanket Crowley frowned. Lucifer wouldn’t have taken the time to cover him.

Bracing himself against the wall he forced himself to his feet. Crowley took a tentative step and fell. Cursing he reached down grabbed his left ankle trying to soothe the severe pain shooting up through his leg. A shadow blocked the light filtering into the bedroom and Crowley froze. When he didn’t feel the tale tail signature of angelic Grace he shifted his eyes to the doorway. With a sigh of relief he realized it was only Meg.

“Hey,” Crowley said quietly.

“You tried to walk didn’t you?”

Crowley bit his lip and hung his head.

“I don’t recommend that right now. You wouldn’t get far with that chain.”

Still biting his lip Crowley nodded.

“Lucifer,” he asked quietly.

“Lucifer is dealing with more important matters than you right now,” Meg told him.

Crowley slumped in relief. At least he would have a little time before he would have to deal with Lucifer again. That much of his situation was good. Looking back down to his ankles he inspected the chain connecting them again. _“You seem to have much more control, than I would like. We’re going to take steps to fix that.”_ Crowley shivered at the memory.

“Your vessel lost a lot of blood,” Meg observed.

Crowley snorted derisively at the remark.

“You need to replenish it.”

“How do you propose I do that?”

“You could beg Lucifer,” Meg suggested.

Crowley shook his head. Not happening. He would hold out for as long as he could before he ever resorted to begging. “No.”

“I thought as much. You always were stubborn.”

Meg snapped her fingers and a plate appeared in front of Crowley.

“A burger? Really?”

“Red meat is a good way to replenish your iron.”

Crowley frowned. “An undercooked burger?”

Meg shrugged.

“Pass,” Crowley stated shoving the plate away.

“You’ll eat it if I have to cram it down your throat,” Meg insisted.

Crowley inspected her face carefully. She was completely serious. If he didn’t eat it on his own she would force him to eat it. Sighing in resignation Crowley grabbed the plate and drew it closer. Picking up the burger he eyed it carefully before taking a small bite.

“You better finish it all.”

“Water?”

Meg glared at him and Crowley looked away.

“If you want me to finish it I need something to drink. My throat’s too sore.”

“Needy aren’t you?”

Crowley almost made a smart-ass remark but stopped himself. Meg was the only person he could count on not to hurt him right now. He couldn’t isolate her. Meg snapped her fingers and a glass of water appeared next to the plate.

“Thank you,” Crowley stated quietly.

“Whatever,” Meg huffed.


	2. Chapter 2

*-*-*-*-*3 months later*-*-*-*-*

Grimacing against the pain Crowley clenched his teeth together to keep from making a sound. Every torture session began the same way. Lucifer would retrace the symbols he had cared on Crowley’s back the first time. Each time Lucifer retraced them the flare of pain lasted slightly longer. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate Crowley could never figure out what the symbols were or why Lucifer continued to carved them into his flesh.

Crowley was beginning to not care about what the symbols meant. What did it matter anyway? It’s not as if the knowledge would help him. He was trapped here with Lucifer torturing him and no way to stop it. After the torture Lucifer would probably rape him again. As much as Lucifer enjoyed causing him pain the angel seemed to get the most joy out of humiliating him. Sometimes he would force Crowley to beg to be raped. The only times he felt even relatively safe was when Meg was watching him. 

When Meg was ordered to watch him they spent most of their time in the living room. As Lucifer tortured Crowley in the bedroom it was almost always covered in his blood. Meg, not wanting to get the blood on her, rarely went into the bedroom. On rare occasions when Lucifer left Crowley unable to walk Meg would venture into the bedroom long enough to grab a set of his sleepwear for him. They had started keeping a blanket in the living room so they didn’t have to get one from the bedroom every time.

Crowley’s head was suddenly yanked backwards by a hand gripping his hair. Grunting Crowley tried to relax into the new position. He had given up trying to fight against his treatment. It was useless to fight. The torture would continue as long as Lucifer wished. The one thing he stubbornly clung to was his refusal to beg. Every session Lucifer would torture him and then tell him the pain would stop if he would just beg. Just once. Crowley could never bring himself to do it. No matter how desperately he wanted to just give in he obstinately refused to allow Lucifer _that_ satisfaction.

“I asked you a question,” Lucifer snarled.

“Must have missed it,” Crowley gasped breathlessly.

Lucifer bellowed in rage. Crowley had enough time to think Lucifer might actually kill him this time before the pain of the renewed assault overwhelmed him. If he hadn’t been suspended from the iron shackles connected to the ceiling he would have long since curled into a ball. The pain was breathtaking. Why the hell did he insist on provoking Lucifer when he knew what would happen? When the onslaught stopped Crowley hung limply from the chains simply trying to breathe. 

Lucifer was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Why?”

As drastic as the change in Lucifer’s tone was, it wasn’t totally surprising. Lucifer’s mood could and did change instantaneously. Crowley was still in too much pain to speak. Instead of even attempting to answer Crowley resigned himself to the punishment that would come from not answering Lucifer. 

“You know what happens when you provoke me, yet you insist on doing so.”

Lucifer actually sounded genuinely perplexed. If he wasn’t in so much pain Crowley might have laughed. _Now that would be a bad idea_ , his mind told him. Cram it, he shot back to the thought.

How was it even possible to hurt this much and _not_ die? A cold finger pressed against his cheek. Instinctively Crowley recoiled away from the contact. A soft whimper escaped Crowley’s lips.

“Shh… quiet Crowley.”

Crowley began to shake uncontrollably as Lucifer drug the finger down his cheek. 

“It doesn’t have to hurt anymore. I can make it all go away, you know I can. All you have to do is ask. Ask me to take the pain away, Crowley.”

To say that he wasn’t tempted would be a complete lie. He would do almost anything to make the pain stop. It would be so easy to give in and let Lucifer take the pain away. If he would just give in he wouldn’t have to feel like this any more. Why was he being so stubborn about this? As he opened his mouth to speak there was a soft knock at the door.

“Yes,” Lucifer asked.

“You asked me to show up at this time.”

Crowley relaxed slightly at the sound of Meg’s voice.

“The session is running longer than planned.”

“I see that. Perhaps a short break would do some good.”

Lucifer remained silent and Crowley waited to see what Lucifer would decide.

“Are you trying to tell me how to train my pet,” Lucifer finally asked in dangerous tone.

“Pft. You think I’m that stupid?”

“I would hope not,” Lucifer answered. His tone was still perilous low.

“You ordered me to show up at this time. I’m willing to come back later if that’s what you want. It’s not like I _want_ to spend more time with Crowley than I have to.”

Silence filled the room and Crowley found himself pleading that Lucifer would leave. On occasion Meg would show up before Lucifer finished. Sometimes Lucifer would leave but sometimes he would send Meg away and continue torturing Crowley. Crowley desperately needed a break right now. He didn’t dare move a muscle as he waited to hear what Lucifer would decide this time.

Without a word Lucifer left the room taking Meg with him. Crowley exhaled the breath he had been holding and sagged in the shackles. The cuffs bit into his wrists and the iron burned his skin but at least he was alone for a moment. Please let him agree to leave, Crowley pleaded. At this point he didn’t care if Lucifer left him in the shackles the whole time he was gone, he just needed a break. Lucifer and Meg walked back into the room and Crowley tensed in anticipation. 

Lucifer snapped his fingers and Crowley fell to the ground. As he lay there Lucifer walked over and stood next to him. Crowley desperately scrambled to roll over. Lucifer had decreed Crowley was to kneel in his presence unless ordered to do otherwise. Crowley didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the chance that Lucifer _might_ leave. Finally he made it onto his knees. He struggled to stay upright as his body wavered back and forth.

“It looks like we will have to continue this later. Unless there’s anything you want to say?”

Anything he wanted to say? Crowley lowered his brows in confusion before he realized what Lucifer meant. Lucifer was giving him one final chance to beg before he left.

“No,” Crowley whispered.

Lucifer continued to watch him and Crowley found himself holding his breath. After a few seconds Lucifer reached down and put a hand lightly on top of Crowley’s head. Crowley shook violently and almost fell. He actually would have fallen if Lucifer hadn’t gripped his shoulder. Lucifer began to stroke Crowley’s head gently. The deceptively soft touch didn’t alleviate any of Crowley’s fears. In truth, the nicer Lucifer acted the more nervous it made Crowley.

“One day you will beg,” Lucifer informed him.

The grip on Crowley’s shoulder tightened slowly. When it became unbearable Crowley cried out in pain and tried to pull away. The grip tightened even more as Lucifer leaned down until they were face to face.

“The long you hold out the worse it will be. Give in and it can stop,” Lucifer whispered.

Lucifer eyed him for a few more moments before finally releasing him. Crowley fell to the ground and curled up as much as his wounds would allow. A hard kick caught his already damaged ribs and Crowley cried out again. Knowing it was completely useless he wrapped his arms around his middle and tried to protect himself from any more harm. Finally Lucifer retreated to the living room. 

.

After seeing Lucifer out Meg made her way back to the bedroom. Crowley was still lying on the floor clutching his arms around his middle. She was pretty sure he was unaware of the soft, pained noises he was making as he lay shivering on the floor. Whatever debt she owed Crowley for the things he had done to her had long since been paid. It had been almost three months of chronic torture. Three months of Lucifer paying attention to Crowley when he should have been paying attention to more important matters.

“Crowley.”

Crowley flinched and tried to crawl away from her. 

“Crowley, stop,” Meg ordered.

Crowley stopped moving but continued to tremble. 

Sighing Meg resigned herself to calming Crowley. It didn’t happen all the time, but more and more often she would have to reassure Crowley Lucifer was really gone and not likely to come back anytime soon. She told herself the only reason she even bothered was because Crowley was almost impossible to deal with when he was like this. It was annoying to listen to him beg her not to hurt him. As if she ever had the opportunity? Lucifer always did too much damage for her to even think about doing anything to Crowley. Why Crowley would break down and beg her when she never had hurt him was a mystery. Lucifer was the one that always hurt Crowley, yet Crowley had never once begged Lucifer. 

Making her way to the closet she grabbed a fresh blanket. She might be able to convince Crowley to move to the living room later but it would take a while. Until she could get Crowley calmer they were stuck in the bedroom. Walking closer Meg crouched down near Crowley. Careful to keep from startling him too much she laid the blanket over him.

“Please,” Crowley whimpered.

“It’s Meg, Crowley.”

“Please,” he repeated.

“Crowley, it’s just me. He’s not here anymore. It’s just me. Lucifer’s gone.”

*-*-*-*-*

Almost two hours later she finally had his injuries bandaged and most of the blood cleaned off of him. Inspecting the iron rings embedded into Crowley’s ankles she realized they were becoming infected. They needed to be removed; for more than one reason. As the two of them moved to the living room she summoned a burger out of habit. This was rapidly becoming tedious. She was a demon, not a nursemaid. Why the hell was she the one that always had to take care of Crowley?

.

“Meg?”

“What?”

“Thank you,” Crowley said quietly.

“Whatever,” Meg grumbled.

Crowley gripped the blanket wrapped around him tighter. Not being allowed to wear clothes when Lucifer was present had left Crowley feeling constantly exposed. Even with clothes on and a blanket wrapped around him he could never quite feel covered. Thankfully Meg never said a word about his discomfort. 

“You need to finish eating,” Meg reminded him.

Crowley eyed the burger. He definitely didn’t want to eat anymore. He really did need to do something to help with the blood loss, though. Short of a healing or a blood transfusion, eating was his best hope. Crowley bit the corner of his lip as he tried to psych himself into finishing the burger. Holding the blanket closed with one hand he reached out and grabbed the burger with his other hand staring at it.

“Crowley,” Meg stated flatly as she crossed her arms.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes Crowley brought the burger up to his mouth and took a bite. Chewing slowly he glanced to Meg and raised an eyebrow. Meg huffed and leaned back in the chair with her arms still crossed. Averting his eyes Crowley refocused his attention on the burger. Meg was the _one_ not so crappy thing he had left. 

If it hadn’t been for Meg, Crowley wasn’t sure if he would have lasted this long. Oh he was sure Lucifer would have kept him physically alive to be able to continue torturing him, but mentally Crowley would have long since broken. He was under no illusions that she actually cared about him. The only reason she even bothered to do anything for him was because Lucifer had ordered it. Still, Crowley was grateful for whatever he could get.

“Meg?”

“What now?”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley whispered.

“Sorry?”

“For… you know… Everything I did to you.”

For a while Meg remained silent. “Shut up and eat,” she finally growled.

.

Sorry? Did he really think everything could be wiped away by sorry? After everything he had done he thought it could be wiped out by a word or two he probably didn’t even mean? 

_Except you know he meant them_ , something deep inside insisted. 

And you shut up she ordered to the voice. I’ve had enough of you. Somewhere during the three months Crowley had been here a small voice inside began to point out things she would rather not have noticed. She did her best to ignore it but the nagging voice remained persistent.

_Hasn’t he already paid for the things he’s done to you?_

“Shut up,” Meg growled. 

Crowley jumped and looked at her startled. His fear cautiously morphed into concern. Great, just what I needed. “Just keep eating,” Meg ordered.

Crowley dropped his eyes and obeyed without argument; finishing the last of his food. Leaning forward slowly he placed the plate on the coffee table. He tugged the blanket around himself more tightly and leaned sideways as he laid down on the couch. An unplacable emotion lurked just out of reach as she watched Crowley curl up on the couch.

_He doesn’t deserve this._

Meg fought to stifle a growl at the thought. This was Crowley, of course he deserved this. Crowley shifted, tensed and let out a soft hiss of pain. Slowly Crowley changed his position again and finally seemed to relax. Despite what Lucifer wanted there was no way Crowley was going to survive much more of this without being healed. While Lucifer didn’t torture him every day it was close enough. Human bodies weren’t meant to take that much punishment. Eventually the body was going to give out and Crowley would be trapped in a human host he couldn’t escape.

*-*-*-*-*

Crowley’s eyes shot open and he jerked backwards. A dark shape loomed in front of him causing his breath to seize in his lungs. Had he overslept? Meg always woke him up before Lucifer arrived so he could get ready. Why hadn’t she woken him? 

“Crowley.”

Crowley blinked a few times at the sound of the voice. “Meg?”

“You were expecting someone else?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly.

Meg sighed heavily. “Scoot over,” she ordered. 

Crowley scooted backward as much as he could manage. Meg sat on the couch and faced him. “You thought I was him didn’t you?”

Crowley didn’t answer.

“I always wake you up before he arrives don’t I?”

Crowley bit his lip and nodded. “So… it’s time to get ready,” Crowley asked apprehensively.

“Nope. You have today off.”

“He’s not coming?”

“Not today.”

“But he said-”

“I know what he said. He decided he needed to deal with more important matters than your sorry ass. Are you really going to complain?”

“No,” Crowley answered shaking his head.

“Good. Now go back to sleep,” Meg said as she started to stand.

“Meg?”

Pausing, she turned to face him.

“Could… Can… Will…”

“Damn it Crowley, spit it out!”

Crowley flinched at the tone and ducked his head. “Would you stay?”

“I have to stay, I’m assigned to keep an eye on you.”

“No. I mean there. On the couch.” Crowley closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“You want me sit with you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Damned right I don’t,” Meg affirmed as she stood and began walking back to her chair.

Crowley didn’t respond. It had been a stupid idea. What the hell had he been thinking?

“Why,” Meg asked.

Crowley jerked his head up to look in her direction. 

“Why what,” he asked cautiously.

“Why did you want me to sit there?”

“It was stupid to ask. Sorry.”

“Crowley.”

He picked at the blanket nervously. “I just… feel… I…” Crowley took a deep breath and winced as his ribs yelled at him. “I sleep better with you… closer.”

Meg remained silent.

“Forget it, it was a stupid request. I don’t know what I was thinking. I won’t-”

“Quiet,” Meg ordered. “Looks like I have to sit closer or I won’t get any peace.” Meg stood and stalked over to the couch.

Crowley bit his lip. As it split open he tasted blood. He had been trying _not_ to annoy Meg as much as possible. If he annoyed her too much she might start hurting him when Lucifer was gone. That was the last thing he needed. Crowley worried he had gone too far asking her to sit near him. Maybe she had finally gotten fed up with taking care of him and was going to start punishing him for annoying her.

“Move,” Meg commanded when she approached the couch. 

Crowley slid backwards once again and Meg sat down. 

“Go to sleep.”

Crowley nodded and settled in trying to get semi-comfortable. Lucifer wasn’t showing up later? Crowley almost sighed in relief. As far as he knew Lucifer was supposed to show up later for another ‘session’. Why Lucifer had changed his mind was puzzling but ultimately it didn’t matter. Any day without Lucifer was a good day. Crowley tried to relax as he closed his eyes. 

.

Crowley started to move when he realized he was pinned. Taking a few shallow breaths Crowley tried to remain calm. Taking stock of his situation he realized he was still laying on the couch. Opening his eyes slowly he inspected what was pinning him to the couch. Crowley exhaled in relief when he realized it was only Meg. She was laying back with her head resting against the back on the couch, her body pinning him in place.

Not wanting to wake Meg Crowley tried not to shift too much. It was difficult to remain still with Meg laying across his ribs. Closing his eyes Crowley took several steadying breaths trying to ignore the pain. He was finally starting to succeed when Meg shifted. Crowley jerked away as he gasped in pain. Meg struck out instantly as she woke up catching Crowley squarely in the chest. The pain intensified and Crowley struggled to breathe.

“Crowley,” Meg asked sitting up.

Finally free to move Crowley whimpered and rolled onto his side. 

“Damn it, Crowley,” Meg huffed. “Let me see.”

“‘S fine,” Crowley managed.

“I said let me see.”

Crowley tried to relax as he moved his arms away from his ribs. Reaching down Meg pressed her fingers over the bones. While the touch wasn’t too hard it was firm. Crowley struggled not to pull away as Meg inspected his ribs.

“A few fractures but nothing too serious. You should have said something so I could have wrapped them.”

“Didn’t want to be a bother,” Crowley muttered.

“My job is to take care of you. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me things I need to know.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry just don’t hide things from me again.”

“Understood… Meg?”

Meg walked over to the desk and grabbed the medical kit. Walking back she sat down on the couch and glanced to him before pulling out supplies. “What,” she asked rifling through the medical kit.

“Can you read what’s on my back?”

When Meg didn’t answer Crowley frowned and turned to face her. “What?”

“I can’t read it,” she replied.

“What language is it?”

“Enochian.”

“Can you copy it for me? Maybe I can read it.”

“I am not writing anything in angelic script,” Meg stated crossing her arms over her chest.

“Please?”

“No.”

Crowley chewed on his lower lip as he thought about it. “Is it still bleeding?”

“What?”

“Is it still bleeding? If it is I can press it against one of my white shirts to transfer it. You wouldn’t have to help.”

“The fuck I wouldn’t. My luck, you’d end up pressing too hard and completely reopen everything.” Meg eyed him for a moment before standing. “Fuck.”

“I’d just need help getting the bandages off,” Crowley whispered. “I can’t reach them. Please?”

“Damn it. Fine, but I do the transfer. I’m not taking a chance that you might make things worse.”

Crowley nodded and Meg headed to the bedroom. 

*-*-*-*-*

“Well,” Meg huffed.

Crowley cocked his head slightly as he continued to inspect the runes. Bending his knee he used one foot to itch the back of his other ankle. The iron rings in his flesh burned and irritated his skin. They were beginning to itch like fuck. 

“They’re old,” he said finally.

“Can you read them?”

“I’m pretty sure the first one is a binding rune. Probably the one that keeps me from being able to use my powers. I’ve never seen it written quite like that though.”

“You make a habit of reading a lot of angel script?”

“Know your enemy,” Crowley mumbled.

“What about the others? The second one kind of looks similar to the first.”

“I think it has something to do with keeping me from being able to leave hell.”

“You’re not sure?”

“I’ve never come across Enochian this old.”

“So basically we learned nothing?”

“No information is useless,” Crowley stated absently, still staring at the runes.

“For all we know they could mean nothing. Maybe Lucifer just enjoys carving on you.”

Crowley opened his mouth to answer but before he could speak intense pain flared throughout his body. Gasping for breath Crowley collapsed. It felt like someone was trying to rip him apart molecule by molecule.

“Crowley?”

Crowley’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak but he couldn’t manage to say anything. Everything hurt too much. There was no way he would live through this. A small part of him was actually glad he was going to die. Lucifer wouldn’t be able to hurt him any more.

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

Crowley shook his head trying to tell Meg not to worry about it. If he died then his torment would finally end. Please let me die, he begged. Meg reached down and placed a hand over his chest. He vaguely felt her powers flowing into him.

.

Meg materialized several feet away from where the spell was being cast. Anyone who knew how to summon a demon would probably have a demon trap ready. When she finally arrived she inspected the area quickly. Of course it would be the Winchesters, she thought angrily. The bowl for the summoning was sitting dead in the middle of a demon trap. Glancing around Meg found the nearest heavy object, a chair, and threw it at the bowl. 

“What the hell,” Dean asked as he grabbed her arm.

“You two jackasses are about to kill Crowley.”

“It’s a standard summoning spell,” Sam stated. “Summoning a demon doesn’t harm them, you should know that.”

“It does when they’re bound to where they are and unable to leave. For all I know your spell might have been the last straw. He might already be dead thanks to you two.”

“Last straw,” Dean asked.

“Crowley’s bound to where he’s at, he can’t leave. If you two summon him again you could kill him. You might have already killed him for all I know. Do not summon him again.”

“Bound how,” Sam asked.

“I don’t have time for this,” Meg told them. “Just don’t summon him again.”

Tapping into her powers she flung Dean backwards to break his hold on her arm. The second she was free she ported back to hell. Crowley lay unmoving on the floor. Rushing over to his side Meg checked for a pulse. When she didn’t immediately find one she began to get worried. Finally she felt it, weak but definitely still a pulse. Meg let out a sigh of relief. Placing a hand over his chest she let her power flow into him trying to figure out the best way to help him.

*-*-*-*-*

Moaning Crowley rolled over onto his side and curled his legs. He stopped moving when his muscles yelled at him. Everything hurt so much he couldn’t focus. How was he still alive? Had it been Lucifer? He didn’t know anything else that could cause him anywhere near this much pain. A hand settled on his shoulder but Crowley didn’t have the strength to move. If Lucifer wanted to punish him for not kneeling then so be it. 

“Crowley?”

The voice wasn’t Lucifer's. Crowley tried to understand who else would have the ability to hurt him this much. The hand on his shoulder gave him a slight shake.

“Hey, come on. Wake up.”

Waking up he could do. Moving? Not so much. Crowley groaned and tried to move but stopped after a few seconds. The pain was just too unbearable.

“Come on, open your eyes.”

“‘M wake,” Crowley muttered.

“Open your eyes Crowley.”

The voice was so familiar, why couldn’t he place it?

“Crowley,” the voice growled.

As he tried to open his eyes he felt his eyelids fluttering. When he finally got them partially open light seared into them and he shut them tightly. The hand shook his shoulder again.

“Bright,” Crowley mumbled.

The hand left his shoulder. Crowley didn’t have the strength to even care about how he would be punished next for not following orders. Everything already hurt too much. Eventually the hand returned to his shoulder. 

“The lights are off, can you open your eyes now?”

Crowley was becoming annoyed. Why couldn’t this person leave him alone and let him suffer in peace. Like that was ever going to happen? Ever since he had been captured and delivered to Lucifer he had lost his chances of having any semblance of peace.

“Open your eyes now or I’m getting Lucifer,” the voice growled.

Lucifer. If Lucifer wasn’t here already Crowley would do anything to keep it that way. His eyes shot open and a sharp stabbing pain pierced into his brain. Groaning Crowley rolled over. Pressing himself up with his arms he paused. There was no way he could get to his knees without falling over. His arms shook with the effort of holding himself upright. 

“Crowley?”

“Can’t… kneel.” 

His arms shook dangerously and he started to fall. Hands gripped his shoulders and lowered him back to the ground. 

“Sorry,” Crowley whispered. “Tried.”

“Do not move again.”

Crowley nodded. No moving; he could do that. He felt his chest rising with every breath. Did breathing count as moving?

“Can you open your eyes again?”

“Moving?”

“What?”

“Count… as moving?”

“No, it doesn’t count as moving. Now open your eyes.”

Crowley forced his eyes open again and saw someone leaning over him. Focusing on the face he tried to figure out who it was leaning over him. “Meg?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Meg, Crowley tried to process that. Meg was here, Lucifer wasn’t. He was in pain. Had he done something to piss off Meg and make her punish him?

“Punished?”

“What?”

“I do somethin’ wrong?”

Meg’s hand moved from his shoulder to brush the hair away from his face. Her touch was surprisingly gentle. A hand was touching him that wasn’t causing him pain or adding to the pain he already felt. Crowley watched, fascinated, as she continued. Finally she stopped and rested her hand on his shoulder again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Meg said quietly.

Crowley nodded. “Close eyes?”

“In a minute. How are you feeling?”

“Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

Crowley frowned at the question. What didn’t hurt? “Everything,” he told her honestly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t being punished. Okay?”

Crowley frowned at that information. The pain he felt wasn’t a punishment? Then why had he been hurt? He wanted to ask but he didn’t know if he wanted the answer. If he was being hurt this badly and it wasn’t a punishment… 

“Crowley?”

“Mmm,” he hummed.

“You still with me?”

“Think so.”

Even talking hurt. He wanted to curl up in a ball and be left alone. He couldn’t take the thought that he was going to have to feel like this all the time, even when Lucifer wasn’t punishing him. What was it going to feel like when Lucifer did punish him now?

“Stay with me Crowley.”

“Hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. Someone was trying to summon you.”

“Summon?”

“Yeah. Since Lucifer bound you to hell you couldn’t leave to answer the summons.”

.

Meg watched as Crowley tried to understand. She had almost lost him twice. When he finally moved she felt like a weight had lifted off of her shoulders. When he refused to open his eyes after she had turned the light off she threatened him with Lucifer, trying to get a reaction. Crowley trying to kneel in front of her wasn’t the reaction she expected.

“Sorry,” Crowley whispered.

“For what?”

“E’rything.”

Crowley not being able to speak well worried her. Maybe she _should_ get Lucifer. If there was any lasting damage she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Lucifer might be able to fix any lingering damage but would he?

“Meg?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she told Crowley. “And you’ve already apologized. Multiple times.”

Crowley nodded slowly.

“Close eyes?”

“Something up with your eyes?”

“Head,” Crowley mumbled. “Hurts.”

Meg sighed. “You can close them if you want.”

Crowley’s eyes slid closed and Meg inspected his face. She still wasn’t sure if there was any lasting damage but questioning Crowley right now wouldn’t do any good. Maybe he was alright but just in too much pain to answer? 

_If he’s in that much pain now what do you think it will be like when Lucifer comes back?_

Meg pressed her lips together. As much as she hated it the voice was right. Lucifer would continue torturing Crowley even if there was permanent damage because Crowley still refused to beg. Meg frowned. Crowley was getting close to his limit. He probably would beg Lucifer soon. How he had managed to hold out this long was astounding. Could she afford to wait? 

Sighing again she shoved herself to her feet. Reaching across the couch she snagged the blanket and carefully covered Crowley. Crowley jumped as the blanket touched him, then winced. His eyes opened slightly.

“Shh, just covering you.”

“Sleep time,” Crowley asked.

“I’d rather if you tried to stay awake.”

Crowley closed his eyes briefly. By the expression on his face it was clear that he desperately wanted to go to sleep. She couldn’t let him do that right now.

“You can sleep soon, just not right now. Okay?”

Crowley nodded.

“I have to go do something. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Crowley’s eyes shot open and a look of horror crossed his face. 

“I won’t be gone long. Promise.”

“Back soon,” Crowley asked sounding doubtful.

“Yes. Very soon.”

“‘Kay.”

“Don’t move and don’t sleep. Just rest.”

Crowley nodded. 

Standing over Crowley she wondered if this was a good idea. Meg rolled her eyes, of course it wasn’t a good idea. Pressing her lips together again she tried to think if there was any other way to get the information she needed. She couldn’t chance any demon finding out what she was doing. It would be too risky. The quicker she got started the quicker she could get back. Without another thought she blinked out of hell.

*-*-*-*-*

“Dean,” Meg called out when she spotted the older Winchester.

Not surprisingly Dean pulled out a demon knife and tensed.

“What do you want,” Dean asked.

“I need you to call your angel.”

“My angel,” Dean asked raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t have time for this. I’d do it myself but angels can’t hear demons even if demons did pray.

“Why exactly would I call Cass for _you_?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for… someone else.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Crowley.”

“Crowley,” Dean repeated without emotion.

“Yes.”

“Why would I call Cass for Crowley and why isn’t he here asking himself.”

“I told you why. Lucifer bound him to hell. Crowley can’t leave.”

“Bound how?”

“I’m not sure how but he carved Enochian into Crowley’s meatsuit. I need Cass to translate the runes so we know what they mean.”

“So, you’re saying we don’t have to worry about Crowley anymore?”

“Lucifer’s torturing him, Dean. He has been for several months now. There’s no way he’ll be able to last much longer.”

“And I care why?”

“Because you’re the good guys. You have a code of conduct you live by. What Lucifer’s doing is wrong. It’s your job to help people, help him.”

“He wouldn’t lift a finger to help us if he didn’t gain anything out of the deal.”

“That’s why you’re the good guys and he’s not. Are you going to call Cass or not? I have to get back soon.”

“What’s the rush?”

“You’re summoning fucked up Crowley. With all the damage Lucifer’s already done Crowley wasn’t doing too well. If Lucifer shows up while I’m gone…” She trailed off thinking about how Crowley would react. “I’m supposed to be watching him. There’s no telling what Lucifer would do to either of us if he shows up while I’m still here. Call Cass. Please.”

Dean hesitated.

“We don’t have time. I have to get back before Lucifer realizes I’m gone.”

“Even if I call Cass I can’t guarantee he’ll show up or when.”

“Wait a second. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Blinking back to the room Meg checked on Crowley first. Crowley’s eyes were closed and his breathing seemed steady. As she watched him Crowley tensed.

“Meg,” Crowley asked tentatively without opening his eyes.

“It’s me. I have to step out again, but I’ll be right back. Promise.”

Crowley bit the corner of his bottom lip and nodded slightly.

Grabbing the shirt with the imprint of the Enochian symbols on it she blinked back. As she started to hand the shirt to Dean she finally noticed them finishing a devil’s trap.

“What the hell?”

“You helping Crowley? I don’t buy it. What’s really going on?”

“I fucking told you! Lucifer’s torturing him!”

“And you care, why?”

Good question actually. Unfortunately it was one she didn’t have an answer for. “Are you going to let me out or not?”

“I’m thinking not.”

“You don’t get it do you? Lucifer’s not going to kill Crowley, he’s torturing him to break him. He’s trying to break his mind so that he can control him. If that happens Crowley will do whatever Lucifer says, whenever Lucifer says.”

“Lucifer has enough followers. He doesn’t have to worry about one specific demon.”

“Whether or not he has to and whether or not he wants to are two separate things. I thought your motto was saving people, hunting things, et cetera.”

“We save people, demons we hunt.”

“If you won’t help then let me go. I have to get back to Crowley.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because he’s scared, alright? He’s scared and for some reason he relaxes when I’m there.”

“Crowley hates you.”

“Lucifer left me in charge of watching over Crowley when he had to go do other things. Crowley… bonded to me somehow.”

“Bonded?”

“Damn it, Dean we don’t have time for this. Lucifer could return at any moment.”

“Then you better start talking.”

“I really don’t have time for this.”

Meg looked down and inspected the spray paint. Using her foot she scuffed over the nearest lines several times until the wet paint smudged and she finally broke one of the lines in the devil’s trap. She tossed the shirt with the Enochian symbols on it to Dean. 

“Make sure Castiel gets that,” she ordered before porting back to hell.

When she arrived Crowley was sitting upright on the couch with his eyes closed. Cautiously Meg walked forward but stopped several feet away. Crowley’s brows lowered as he frowned.

“Meg,” he asked questioningly as his whole body tensed.

“It’s me,” she affirmed.

Crowley seemed to relax. Meg made her way forward and sat down on the other end of the couch. She opened her mouth but before she could speak the front door opened and Lucifer walked into the apartments. Meg frowned and Crowley pressed himself back against the couch trembling slightly.

“I thought you weren’t going to show up until tomorrow,” Meg said.

“Changed my mind,” Lucifer answered dismissively.

Walking forward Lucifer stopped several feet in front of Crowley. 

“Something is wrong with him,” Lucifer noted. “Something I did not do to him.”

“Someone tried to summon him. Since you’ve bound him so that he can’t leave the summoning almost killed him. He can’t take another round of torture right now, his body wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment while he continued to inspect Crowley.

“Interesting,” Lucifer mused. “Luckily we have other methods at our disposal.”

Lucifer reached a hand out toward Crowley and held it there. After a few seconds Crowley’s whole body began to shake. Gripping onto the couch tightly Crowley tried, unsuccessfully, to back away further. Soft mewling sounds escaped his lips as his body began to shake even harder. Suddenly, and with a loud cry of pain, Crowley’s essence erupted from the body in a swirl of red smoke. The smoke swirled rapidly before shooting across the room and finally coalescing into a tight ball in Lucifer’s outstretched hand. 

“I’m not sure if he’ll be able-”

“His body may have a chance to heal. We will return in two days. You are dismissed until then.”

“What will you do to him?”

“That is not your concern. You’re job is to do as you’re told. Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

“Of course I’m not,” Meg grumbled. “You tasked me with keeping him alive and I was just obeying your orders.”

“My orders only involved keeping his body alive. The rest of him is mine to worry about. I will ward the apartments so that the vessel will be protected. You have two days before your services will be needed again.”

*-*-*-*-*

Blinking several feet away from the motel room Meg inspected the surroundings before making her way to the door. Without bothering to knock she blinked inside. Dean jumped up from the chair he had been sitting in, Castiel cocked his head in her direction and Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you doing here,” Dean asked roughly.

“Where’s Sam,” Meg countered, not wanting to be surprised by an attack later.

“Food run,” Dean replied. “Now answer me.”

“Lucifer pulled Crowley out of his meatsuit and intends to torture his essence for a couple of days. I have until he’s done with Crowley before I have to return. I wanted to know if Castiel translated the symbols yet. We need to learn how to break whatever hold Lucifer has on Crowley quickly.”

“I still don’t understand why you would want to help him.”

“My reasons are none of your concern. You should be more worried about what Lucifer plans to use him for after he’s broken Crowley.”

“You want to tell me what Lucifer’s planning?”

“With Crowley? No idea, but I’m sure whatever it is, you’re not going to like.”

“And we’re just supposed to trust you?”

“How do you think I feel having to go to an angel for answers?”

“Meg,” Castiel interrupted. “Where did you get this from,” he asked nodding to indicate the shirt with the symbols.

“Like I already told Dean, Lucifer carved them into Crowley’s meatsuit. Why? What do they mean?”

“They’re modified from ancient Enochian symbols. The original symbols are too old for me to translate with complete certainty.”

“So you don’t know what they mean?”

“I have a basic idea of what some of the original symbols meant before they were altered.”

“Well?”

Walking over to the table Castiel spread the shirt out and smoothed it flat. “Normally it would be read right to left but this seems to be written backwards.”

“It is,” Meg confirmed. “It’s a transfer of what was carved into Crowley’s back.”

“Keep in mind these symbols are altered forms of ancient Enochian. I would have a difficult time translating them if they were written in the old script without the changes.” Castiel pointed to the first symbol on the left. “This is a binding rune. The meaning can be a little confusing when translated into English. In it’s original form it should mean something closer to ‘combining’ than binding.”

“Should,” Meg asked.

“I told you, the language is older than I am. It isn’t used anymore.”

“Do you know anyone who might know the ancient version,” Meg asked.

“Michael and Raphael would probably be able to understand it but I don’t think it would be a good idea to ask them right now.”

“You mean since Michael’s a douche that’s trying to instigate the apocalypse and Raphael is backing him,” Dean asked angrily.

Castiel shrugged.

“Anyone else,” Meg asked.

“Lucifer,” Castiel answered.

“There’s no one else who might know?”

“Gabriel,” Castiel answered quietly. “But Lucifer killed him.”

For a while no one spoke.

“Could the altered version be used to block a person from being able to access their powers,” Meg finally asked. 

“With the modifications it has that’s a high possibility.”

“And the others?”

“This one,” Castiel stated pointing to another one of the runes, “with the modifications it has could be part of what’s keeping Crowley from being unable to leave hell.”

“Part,” Dean asked.

“Even with the modifications, this symbol alone shouldn’t be enough to keep a demon bound to a location. It could however be used in conjunction with another to accomplish that.”

“Which one,” Meg asked.

“I can’t be certain. There’s a few on here that don’t have similar symbols in the Enochian we use now,” Castiel stated.

“Anything else,” Meg pressed.

“This one. It’s the only other one that has a similar symbol. The original symbol loosely translated means protector. With the modifications it has I’m not sure how to read it now.”

“You can’t read any of the others,” Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. “There’s no glyphs similar to them in the Enochian we use now.”

“Can they be broken?”

“It would probably be difficult. Since they were cut into Crowley Lucifer probably added his own Grace to the writing. Do you know what he used?”

“He always uses an angel blade when he cuts them into Crowley.”

“I was afraid of that.” Castiel sighed. “You’re going to have to use an angel blade to break them.”

“Me,” Meg asked cocking an eyebrow. “I’m not defying Lucifer. Get someone else.”

“I can’t enter hell without being sensed,” Castiel informed her. 

“I don’t care, I’m not defying Lucifer like that.”

“But you’ll sell out his plans to us. Oh yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” Dean snapped.

“It’s not the same thing,” Meg shot back. “Lucifer needs to pay attention to more important things. Screwing with Crowley is a waste of time. Taking Crowley out of the picture is not betraying Lucifer.”

“Then why don’t you break the symbols yourself,” Dean snarked.

“Because I’m not the one that wants him to fail, that’s you. I’m loyal to his cause. If I’m going to continue to serve him I can’t be the one to free Crowley. Lucifer would be able to sense it and he would have me killed.”

“Fine,” Dean growled. “I’ll do it. Either of you two know how to break into hell?”

“Wait,” Meg stated holding up a hand to pause the discussion. “I don’t want to know about anything you might be planning. If I know I would have to take steps to stop you.”

“Understood,” Castiel acknowledged.


	3. Chapter 3

Some of her time was spent dealing with “matters of state”. Meg checked and double checked that the other demons were doing as they were told and weren’t slacking or plotting against Lucifer. The majority of her time, however, was spent in the library searching for information on what Lucifer might be trying to accomplish by carving the Enochian symbols into Crowley. Not surprisingly there wasn’t much information on any form of angelic writing in any of the libraries in hell. As the end of the two days approached Meg made her way back to the apartments to wait for Lucifer. She didn’t have long to wait before he arrived. 

The door opened and Lucifer strode inside. As he approached Meg noted the ball of Crowley’s essence spinning rapidly in one of Lucifer’s hands. Something about the way it moved made it appear agitated. Meg repressed a scoff at that thought. Two days with Lucifer? Even in his smoke form it had to have been more than ‘unpleasant’ for Crowley. Agitated probably didn’t even begin to describe how Crowley had to be feeling. 

Meg pressed her lips together and refrained making any comments as Lucifer walked closer. Lucifer acknowledge her with a slight nod and Meg returned the nod. As he approached the couch Lucifer took his hand holding the ball of Crowley’s essence and slammed it into the meatsuit’s chest. Crowley’s eyes shot open and he gasped for breath. As Crowley continued to gasp Lucifer watched, seemingly fascinated with the ordeal. 

“Your services will not be needed for another two days,” Lucifer told her without glancing away from Crowley.

“Two days,” Meg asked, lowering her brows.

“Yes. I do believe Crowley and I should spend some quality time together now that he is back within his vessel.”

Meg refrained from commenting. As she made her way to the door she stopped and looked back one last time. Lucifer pulled out the angel blade and smiled at Crowley. Letting herself out Meg shut the door carefully behind herself. Two days? Would Crowley even be alive by the time she returned? If it was anyone except Lucifer she would definitely plan on Crowley being dead when she returned, but this was Lucifer. He wouldn’t let Crowley die. Lucifer was the only person who seemed to want to see Crowley suffer more than her.

_You don’t really expect him to be able to withstand two more days without a break do you?_

“Shut it,” Meg grumbled back at the voice.

*-*-*-*-*

Technically it was the second day. Yeah well, technically he hasn’t sent for you yet, her mind told her. Meg rolled her eyes at the thought. Arguing with herself wasn’t helpful. Either she made her way to the rooms now or she waited until she was summoned. Taking a deep breath and releasing it Meg made her way to apartment. When she approached the door she hesitated. Maybe she really should wait until Lucifer sent for her? This is stupid, she thought to herself as she opened the door.

She had taken only one step inside before she stopped walking. With the doorknob still in one hand she inspected the scene. Blood covered the living room’s walls and floor and Crowley was nowhere to be seen. Entering carefully she shut the door softly. Meg carefully made her way to the bedroom trying not to step in any of the congealing pools of blood. The door to the bedroom was shut. Slightly apprehensive Meg placed a hand on the knob and hesitated for a few seconds. If the living room looked this badly there was no telling what the bedroom would look like.

Opening the door the bedroom looked almost as bad as she had anticipated. As always Crowley was lying on the floor, in a pool of his own blood, not moving. With a heavy sigh she made her way over to him, trying not to step in any of the blood. She frowned slightly at the iron chain now linking Crowley’s wrists. Checking for a pulse she was astonished to discover that Crowley was still alive. Sighing she set about trying to make sure he stayed that way.

*-*-*-*-*

Crowley’s eyes shot open and he quickly inspected the room. No Lucifer anywhere, at least that much was good. Groaning Crowley dropped back to the ground and closed his eyes again. Everything hurt so bad it was impossible to tell where any of the pain originated. Laying on the ground Crowley tried to take stock of his injuries when he realized something. He was wearing a pair of his sleep pants underneath the covers draped over him. _If I ever catch you wearing clothes again…_

.

Meg frowned slightly as she heard soft noises coming from the bedroom. Standing up she checked to make sure the blood hadn’t soaked through the blanket she had thrown over the couch. Satisfied it was doing it’s job she made her way to the bedroom. Crowley had just finished removing the sleep pants. 

“What do you think you’re doing,” Meg asked placing a hand on her hip.

“No clothes,” Crowley muttered not looking up at her.

“Excuse you?”

“No clothes,” Crowley repeated tossing the sleep pants across the room. 

Laying back down he curled up into a loose ball and wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered. Meg frowned as she watched him. Crowley was always in a hurry to cover up the second Lucifer left, and _now_ he didn’t want to wear clothes? A new order from Lucifer perhaps?

“Crowley.”

“No,” Crowley replied, shaking his head. “No clothes, no talking to you.”

Meg’s brow furrowed at that response.

“What do you mean no talking to me?”

Crowley didn’t respond.

“Did Lucifer order it,” Meg asked.

Crowley nodded as he began rocking back and forth.

“Why?”

Crowley didn’t reply. 

Turning, Meg glance back over her shoulder. “If you won’t answer me then I’m going to see Lucifer.”

“No!”

Crowley reached an arm toward her and hissed as the chain between his wrists pulled against the iron rings embedded in them. Frowning Meg turned back around and waited. Crowley struggled to sit up and finally made it to his knees. As soon as he was upright he began shaking his head wildly.

“I didn’t say I was bringing him back here, Crowley.”

Crowley to continued to shake his head.

“You don’t want me even talking to him,” Meg asked.

Crowley nodded his head passionately. Before she could respond the door to the apartment burst open. Meg turned back to see Lucifer and several demons standing there.

“No,” Crowley yelled. “I wasn’t talking to her! You promised!”

“First, you did talk to her didn’t you? Second, I specifically stated no _communication_ , didn’t I,” Lucifer stated coldly. “You knew what would happen, Crowley.”

“Don’t do this,” Crowley insisted.

“I’ll do exactly as I please. Who’s going to stop me? You?” 

Lucifer sneered at Crowley briefly before straightening suddenly. Meg felt the presence as well. There was an angel other than Lucifer in hell.

“Kill her,” Lucifer ordered before blinking out of the room.

The other demons in the room rushed her and Meg crouched to defend herself. There was no way she would be able to take out all of the other four demons but she had to try. As they descended on her she pulled out her demon knife and braced herself for whatever would come.

As the first demon rushed her she stabbed it in the chest and whirled away from the knife of the second demon. Tensing she waited for the second demon to approach closer before making a move. Before the second demon even got a chance to strike Crowley was there. She only had a few seconds to note that the chains binding his wrists were severed and dangling. Crowley rushed the second demon and broke his neck before moving to the third. Meg didn’t waste time over analyzing the situation. She launched herself at the fourth demon.

*-*-*-*-*

“You’re more stupid than I thought to come alone little one,” Lucifer growled.

“Who said I came alone,” Castiel answered.

Lucifer paused and straightened as if testing the air. 

“You brought friends?”

Castiel shrugged. “Like you said, it would be stupid to come alone.”

Castiel blinked away before Lucifer could stop him. He might be able to survive long enough for backup to show but the plan was to keep Lucifer busy until Dean contacted them. Staying away from Lucifer for as long as possible was the best bet until then.

*-*-*-*-*

“Crowley?”

Crowley sat on the ground dazed. In theory he understood what had just happened, however in practice he was still slightly confused. He glanced down and inspected the chains that previously bound his wrists. Had it really been him who had broken them?

“Crowley,” Meg asked again slightly louder.

Crowley glanced up and met her eyes. 

“You okay?”

“I… think so?”

“Are you injured,” she asked.

Crowley looked down and inspected himself. Sure his wrists and ankles were bleeding somewhat, but not too badly. Nothing seemed broken or too much more injured than before the fight. He looked back up at Meg.

“I don’t think so. At least, not more than before.”

“You’re bleeding,” Meg observed.

Crowley glanced back down to his wrists. “Only a little.”

He was about to say more when the door burst open. Crowley tensed his muscles, preparing to defend himself, or Meg, if needed. He expected it to be Lucifer or possibly more demons. What he didn’t expect was Dean Winchester rushing into the room. The second he noticed the angel blade Dean was wielding Crowley stumbled to his feet.

“No,” Crowley growled. “Leave her alone.”

Dean didn’t answer. He merely circled Crowley as Crowley continued turning to face him. Crowley tensed his muscles as he waited for Dean to make a move.

“Damn it Crowley, stop moving,” Dean barked. 

“Fuck you,” Crowley spat back.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Dean contended.

“Fuck you,” Crowley repeated.

“Damn it Crowley, stop moving.”

“Not on your life,” Crowley replied still mirroring Dean’s movements.

“Meg,” Dean asked questioningly.

Crowley glanced back to Meg. The few seconds his eyes left Dean were the few seconds too long. Dean moved in and sliced a stripe across Crowley’s back. Normally he wouldn’t have given the pain a second thought. Normally he didn’t have someone slicing into the same area and infusing it with Grace almost daily. Dean’s slice went directly across where Lucifer continually carved into him. Searing pain shot through his body and Crowley dropped to the ground in agony. 

.

“Is he alright,” Meg questioned.

“How the hell should I know,” Dean answered.

“You’re the one that cut him. Why would you do it if you didn’t know what would happen?”

“Cass said there were several possibilities. We had no way of knowing which one would actually happen.”

“And now?”

“Still don’t know.”

Crowley moaned in pain and rolled over onto his side.

“Did you know it would hurt him this much,” Meg growled.

“I told you, I had no way of knowing what would happen. Still don’t. My job is to break the marks and get him to the surface, that’s it.”

“No matter what damage you do to him?”

“What do you care?”

Meg opened her mouth to answer but promptly shut it. What did she care? This was Crowley they were talking about. She wanted him gone and that was the only reason she had gone to the Winchesters and Castiel. With Crowley gone Lucifer could focus on more important matters. Crowley cried out once again and Meg turned back to watch him.

“Please,” Crowley begged. “Hurts.”

“Make it stop,” Meg ordered.

“I can’t,” Dean told her. “I don’t know what’s happening but the runes have to be broken before he can leave here.”

“Meg,” Crowley whispered.

She glanced down and saw Crowley watching her as his body shook. 

“Please,” Crowley begged.

Meg knelt down and put a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “It’ll be over soon, just bear with it for a moment.”

Crowley clenched his jaw shut and nodded. After a few seconds a whimper escaped him and Meg shushed him again. Crowley began to shake even harder. Dean walked closer and stood next to them.

“Can’t you do _anything_ ,” Meg asked Dean.

“I already told you. I don’t know what’s happening or how long it’ll last.”

“This is the worst plan ever. What part of ‘I can’t be a part of this did you not get,” Meg asked.

“You’re not a part of this,” Dean answered. 

“Oh yeah, Lucifer’s so going to believe that.”

“Would you just trust us?”

“Oh yeah, cause you guys are so worried about the welfare of us demons,” Meg snarked.

“You know what-”

Dean was cut off by a loud cry of pain from Crowley. Both of them turned back to him. As they watched light seemed to flare between him and the floor. Meg gripped his shoulder and rolled him sideways. The symbols Lucifer had carved into him were glowing. They began to pulse slightly before glowing brightly and almost blinding her. Meg closed her eyes against the light. When it finally faded she opened her eyes cautiously.

“Crowley,” she asked.

Crowley didn’t respond. 

Dean knelt down and inspected Crowley’s back. “Looks like that’s the best we’re going to get.”

Meg ignored him and checked for a pulse. When she found one she sighed in relief and sat backward on her ankles. She tried to ignore the concern she felt for Crowley and what it might mean. Suddenly she felt a presence and turned to see a tallish blonde angel standing behind her.

*-*-*-*-*

At first the only thing Crowley could sense was pain, nothing else, just the pain. It almost felt like every time Lucifer had carved the symbols into him all happening at the same time. He wanted to move to see if he could lessen the pain somehow but his body wouldn’t cooperate with him. There was an annoying buzzing sound at the edge of his hearing. Crowley tried to ignore the pain and concentrate on the noise. Slowly the volume seemed to get louder and the sound seem to start making more sense. Words. He couldn’t quite tell what was being said but there were several people talking. Crowley tried to open his eyes.

.

“I think he’s waking up, guys,” Sam stated.

“About bloody time,” Balthazar huffed crossing his arms.

Ignoring the comment Castiel walked over to stand next to the bed. “Crowley?”

Crowley let out a low moan and tilted his head sideways a little.

“Cass,” Dean said questioningly.

“Not yet, Dean,” Castiel answered. “Crowley?”

Crowley moaned again and his eyelids fluttered slightly.

“You can’t heal him anymore at all,” Sam asked.

“Nothing I can do to heal him would help. Lucifer’s Grace is still running through him. I could only take care of the physical injuries. Somehow Lucifer bonded bits of his Grace to Crowley. I can’t heal it because technically there’s nothing to heal. That Grace is a part of Crowley now.”

“So, what,” Dean asked. “He’s part angel now?”

“No. He’s still a demon. It’s just that now he’s a little more powerful.”

“Great, just what we needed.”

“Meg,” Crowley whispered, shifting slightly.

Castiel frowned. “Crowley? Are you back with us?”

Crowley’s eyelids fluttered again before his eyes finally opened a little.

“Castiel?”

“It’s me. How are you feeling.”

Crowley ignored the question and turned to examine the room. He stopped moving when he saw Dean and stared. Blinking a few times Crowley frowned.

“You were in hell,” Crowley finally stated quietly.

“Yeah, a couple of times now.”

“No. You were in the apartment… With an angel blade…” 

“Yeah,” Dean repeated.

“Where are we,” Crowley asked.

“Bobby’s house,” Dean informed him.

Crowley lay back down and bit the corner of his lower lip. “Meg,” he asked quietly.

“She should be fine,” Balthazar answered. “A bit dinged up but nothing she can’t recover from.”

Crowley eyed the angel suspiciously.

“We had to make it seem like she wasn’t involved,” Castiel stated. “We did everything we could to keep Lucifer from suspecting anything.”

Crowley finally turned back to face Castiel again. “Why would Lucifer have suspected anything?”

“She was the one that came to us about getting you out of hell,” Castiel answered. “You really didn’t know about that?”

Crowley’s eyes slid closed. “Oh yeah, because I was so involved in everything that was happening while I was down there,” Crowley muttered. “Just so you know, there’s nothing you can do to hurt me worse than Lucifer. Whatever you’re planning on doing to me you may as well forget it. Or not,” Crowley stated dismissively. “I really don’t care any more.”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Castiel stated.

“Oh yeah? Then why did Dean slice into me with an angel blade before ‘rescuing’ me?”

“Damn it Crowley,” Dean growled. 

Castiel put a hand up to halt Dean. “We had to break the runes binding you to hell. To do that we had to use an angel blade because it would take another angel’s Grace to be able to sever the Grace Lucifer used when marking you with the symbols.”

“Whatever,” Crowley muttered.

“Tell me again why we’re helping him,” Balthazar asked.

“You know what? I’m not even sure anymore,” Dean answered.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Sam replied.

“And because he might be able to help us stop Lucifer,” Castiel added.

“No,” Crowley whispered rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around himself. 

“Crowley,” Castiel began.

“I said no! I won’t do it,” Crowley shouted without reopening his eyes.

“We need your help.”

“I won’t do it,” Crowley mumbled.

Castiel pressed his lips together and headed for the door. Looking back he motioned for the others to follow. When they were all in the hallway Castiel pushed the door mostly closed leaving about a foot of space.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to push him right now,” Castiel said. “We don’t know what Lucifer did to him. I think he’s going to need some time before he feels safe.”

“We don’t have time to baby him,” Dean grumbled.

“We’re not going to get him to help us the way he is right now. He’s still too scared of Lucifer to do anything against him.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Great. So, what, we get him a nightlight and tell him the monsters in his head aren’t real?”

“That’s just it though,” Sam interjected. “The monsters in his head are real Dean.”

*-*-*-*-*

Sam held the plate in one hand and slowly opened the door. He called out as the door swung open. It was always better to make sure not to startle Crowley whenever possible. Crowley despised feeling defensive and it made him harder to deal with when he was feeling that way. Crowley was sitting at the desk without a shirt on, staring out the window in front of him. He didn’t seem to have heard Sam’s arrival. Usually Crowley seemed to prefer to remain completely clothed. It had been a while since Sam had seen Crowley’s back. Sam set the plate of food down on the bed and took the time to inspect Crowley’s scars. 

The most predominant scarring was the Enochian carved across his shoulders. Several other scars marred the skin on Crowley’s back. Cass had managed to get rid of most of them but the ones that had been inflicted with bits of Grace refused to fully heal. Seemingly Lucifer had wanted some of them to last when he created them. Cass had told them that it would take another archangel to be able to counter Lucifer’s Grace enough to heal most of the remaining scars fully. Even with another archangel it was doubtful the scarring of the Enochian symbols would ever fully heal.

Sam took a step back towards the door and leaned against the wall. Doing his best to look innocuous Sam cleared his throat. Startled, Crowley jumped slightly and tensed. Sam waited patiently for Crowley to relax. After everything the demon had been through Sam really couldn’t blame the nervousness. Finally Crowley turned slightly and glanced backward. Sam gave a small nod and continued to wait. Reaching down Crowley grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his arms.

“Feeding time at the zoo,” Crowley stated angrily as he buttoned his shirt.

“You need to eat, Crowley,” Sam said patiently.

After he finished buttoning the shirt Crowley crossed his arms and glared at Sam. Sam pushed himself off the wall and grabbed the plate of food. After a two weeks Sam was getting accustomed to the attitude. Dean absolutely refused to put up with Crowley’s attitude and Crowley refused to be alone in the same room as Cass; or any other angel for that matter. That left just Sam and Bobby to take care of Crowley, whether or not Crowley wanted it.

“You know I’m not leaving until you eat,” Sam reminded Crowley.

Crowley sighed in resignation and uncrossed his arms. “Well come on then. Let’s get this over with so you can leave.”

Sam walked over and set the plate down on the desk. Picking up the fork Crowley stabbed at the food a few times. Sam sat down on the bed and waited. If they didn’t watch while he ate Crowley would usually throw the food away instead of eating it.

“You know it’s not good to spend so much time by yourself,” Sam said trying to make conversation.

“I dare you to spend every day with Lucifer for any extended period of time and _not_ want alone time,” Crowley snapped.

“You must have had some time to yourself,” Sam observed.

“No. Whenever Lucifer would leave he had Meg watch over me. I was never alone.”

Crowley took a few bites of his food.

Sam tried to process that. Never alone, no time to yourself. Ever. 

“Sam?”

Sam looked over to Crowley and raised an eyebrow.

Crowley poked at his food again. “They didn’t kill Meg, did they?”

Sam frowned at the question. “No, there was no reason to kill her. Why?”

“No reason,” Crowley muttered.

“She must have been worried about you,” Sam said casually.

Crowley merely shrugged.

Sam decided to change topics. “If you feel up to it later why don’t you eat dinner downstairs with us?”

“I won’t feel better.”

“You’ve been here two weeks, Crowley.”

“And?”

“You can’t keep hiding from things.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Okay, you can’t keep moping.”

“Let it go Sam.”

“No. You had two weeks Crowley. You need-”

“How would you know what I need! You weren’t there! You have no idea what it was like!”

“It’s over now.”

“Right, so I’m just supposed to get over it? Is that it?”

“Of course not. No one’s expecting you to just get over anything. The problem is we have an apocalypse about to happen and we need help finding a way to stop it. Right now you’re our best source of information. No one’s trying to rush you but we do need you to start working on your issues.”

“Issues? Is that what we’re going to call it?”

“We could call it torture if you want,” Sam replied dryly.

“Is there a point to this,” Crowley asked.

“Yes,” Sam answered. “We need your help. For that we’re going to need you to start working on your problems.”

For a while Crowley didn’t move. Finally he stood and threw the plate across the room. 

“Get out,” Crowley growled.

“Crowley-”

“I said get out.”

Shaking his head Sam stood and made his way to the door. When he reached the door Sam stopped and turned back. “You know Lucifer won’t let the demons live if he wins, don’t you,” Sam said quietly.

Crowley didn’t respond.

“If you really care about what happens to Meg you’ll help us stop him.”

Without waiting for a response Sam let himself out of the bedroom and closed the door behind himself.

*-*-*-*-*

Sam made his way back to the kitchen.

“Well that was quick,” Dean said as Sam entered. “Crowley actually cooperate for once?”

“Let it go Dean,” Sam cautioned.

“What’s your problem Sammy,” Dean demanded. "For the last two weeks you’ve done nothing but take up for him.”

“I said let it go.”

“Not happening, you may as well just tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Nothing’s going on with me. I just don’t want to talk about Crowley.”

“Tough. Now spill,” Dean ordered.

“Fine,” Sam snapped. “You want to know why I’m being nice to Crowley, I’ll tell you why. The next person Lucifer goes after will probably be me. If Lucifer ever gets his hands on me and tortures me like he did Crowley I would want someone to show me a little compassion or understanding.”

“Sam-”

“No. You’ve been to hell Dean, you know what it’s like. What do you think it’s going to be like for me with Lucifer inhabiting me?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Dean maintained.

“Isn’t it? Unless we can find some way to stop him it might very well happen,” Sam insisted.

“He’s right, you know.”

Both Dean and Sam turned to the new arrival.

“Lucifer _will_ find some way to get Sam to say yes if he isn’t stopped,” Crowley continued. 

“How are you feeling,” Sam asked.

“Feeling? I feel like I just spent months being tortured by one of heaven’s most powerful archangels, thanks for asking.”

“What do you want, Crowley,” Dean asked.

Crowley sighed and walked over to the table. Pulling out a chair he sat down and placed his hands in his lap. Staring at the table Crowley chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds. “I wanted to tell Sam he was right. Lucifer has to be stopped. I know how important it is, but…”

“Hey, one step at a time,” Sam told Crowley. “Just coming down here is progress.”

Crowley snorted derisively and continued staring at the table. 

Sam moved around the table and sat in the chair directly opposite of Crowley. “I mean it. Every little step counts right now. So long as we keep moving forward.”

“You don’t understand do you? You seriously expect me to defy Lucifer again? After what happened to me for just giving you two the colt? Leaving the bedroom is one thing, openly defying Lucifer again is something completely different.”

“One step at a time Crowley, okay?”

Crowley shook his head and didn’t answer.

“Hey,” Dean interrupted. Walking over to the table, Dean grabbed the chair between Sam and Crowley. Flipping it around backward Dean sat down. “You know precisely what Lucifer does to the people that piss him off. All you did was give us the colt. What do you think he’s going to do to Sam if he ever got his hands on him?”

Crowley shudder and hunched his shoulders forward.

“Dean,” Sam cautioned.

“No, Sam. He needs to be reminded he’s not the only one that has something to lose in this fight The rest of us are risking just as much to stop him.”

“That’s enough,” Sam warned. 

“Sam,” Crowley whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I appreciate the efforts but he is right. I’m just not sure if I can do anything to help.”

“You can,” Sam assured him. “When Lucifer captured you, you were on your own. You didn’t have anyone watching out for you. You have us now.”

Crowley shook his head. 

Sam placed a hand on Crowley’s arm. “It’ll be okay, Crowley.”

*-*-*-*-*

Sam sat alone in his room at Bobby’s house trying to research a few things. Honestly he wasn’t getting much work done. His mind kept drifting too much for him to concentrate. Ever since they had ‘rescued’ Crowley Sam had been more and more preoccupied with what would happen if Lucifer wasn’t stopped soon. Crowley still wouldn’t talk about the experience but Sam had a pretty good idea of what it had to have been like there. If it made Meg turn to hunters and an angel for help it had to have been really bad.

It had been almost a month since they’d pulled Crowley out of hell. Since the first time Crowley had come down to the kitchen Sam had insisted Crowley come down at least once a day. After arguing for over an hour Crowley finally agreed. In the beginning Crowley would make his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He would eat whatever Sam put in front of him and go back upstairs. After a few days Sam realized Crowley wasn’t heading back upstairs quite so quickly. Maybe they were actually starting to make progress, Sam thought. A soft knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. Sam turned and saw Crowley standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” Crowley said casually.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Crowley shrugged. Chewing on his lower lip, he leaned forward slightly and inspected the room.

“Want to come in,” Sam asked.

Walking in Crowley continued examining the room. Sam waited, not wanting to push Crowley. To his knowledge this was the first time Crowley had ventured anywhere in the house besides the kitchen. Finally Crowley turned to face Sam.

“I might have a way to help you,” Crowley revealed.

Sam straightened. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. He was torn between waiting for Crowley to offer more on his own or pressing for the information. 

“Okay,” Sam finally said when Crowley seemed reluctant to continue.

“The, uh… The horseman rings…”

“Yes?”

“I trust you still have the first two rings?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, good.” Crowley started to walk around the room running his hands over various objects. Finally he stopped and turned back to Sam. “I know how to find Pestilence.” 

*-*-*-*-*

“You knew where Pestilence was this whole time and you’re just now telling us,” Dean yelled.

“Dean stop,” Sam ordered.

“No, you know how long we’ve been looking for him.”

“I don’t actually know _where_ he is, just the demon that does know,” Crowley whispered.

“And you couldn’t have told us sooner?”

“No,” Crowley said quietly.

“Why not,” Dean demanded.

Crowley sank back in the chair and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Dean stop,” Sam repeated. “Crowley?”

Crowley shook his head.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not. There’s nothing you can do that would come close to anything Lucifer did to me, but…” 

“But it’s still difficult?”

“It’s stupid,” Crowley mumbled.

“No it’s not. You’ve been through hell, literally. It’s only logical there’s some residual baggage left.”

“Whatever,” Crowley muttered.

“It’s not whatever, Crowley. But, we do need to stop Lucifer, so if there’s any information you can give us…” 

*-*-*-*-*

“Good meeting, Dean. You know, I’m excited.”

Blinking behind Brady Crowley immediately covered Brady’s head with a burlap sack that had a devil’s trap drawn on it. Summoning a crowbar he whacked “Brady” in the head a few times. “Evening Uncle,” Crowley stated before giving him another whack. Damn that felt good.

“What the hell was that,” Dean asked.

“That was perfect,” Crowley informed him.

“Perfect? He didn’t want the rings. He wanted me.”

“Imagine the surprise on your face.”

“What?”

“Your ignorance and misinformation -- I mean, completely authentic. You can't fake that. What? It went like clockwork.”

“Not for me, you son of a bitch!”

“That's what you get for working with a demon.” Crowley shrugged.

*-*-*-*-*

“Look, we can’t take this guy back to your brother,” Crowley said exasperated.

“Why the hell not,” Dean asked.

“They’ve got history, okay?”

“You want to go anywhere, you start talking. What history?” 

Damn it. Of course Dean would insist on knowing. Well here goes nothing, Crowley thought.

*-*-*-*-*

“Crowley? Where’s Dean,” Sam asked.

"For the record I was against this,” Crowley informed Sam.

“Against what?”

“I wanted to spare you this. We should be miles away.” 

“Spare me what,” Sam asked as Dean entered the room.

"I need you to stay on mission, okay? Focused,” Dean told Sam.

“I don't understand,” Sam said. “What's all this about?”

“I'm doing this because I trust you.”

“Trust me to what?”

“Sam,” Brady said questioningly.

Crowley bit his lip and waited. Not surprisingly Sam recognized the voice.

“Brady?”

Dean removed the hood from Brady’s head.

Brady chuckled. “Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh… middle of our sophomore year?”

“What?

“That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.”

“You son of a bitch! You introduced me to Jess!”

Sam stalked closer to Brady and Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulders.

“Ding, ding! I think he's got it,” Brady shouted gleefully.

Sam struggled to push past Dean but Dean refused release him.

“Damn it, Sam,” Dean yelled.

“I'm gonna kill you!”

Dean pushed Sam out of the room while Brady began to laugh.

“Get out of my way,” Sam yelled at his brother.

“No. There is only one way to win, and it ain't by killing that thing in there.”

“Sam,” Crowley began. "Listen to me. We need Pestilence to get at the devil, and we need Brady to get to Pestilence.”

“Says you,” Sam shouted.

“Yes, says me,” Crowley confirmed. “You really think I’d lie about something like this? After… After…”

“So you’re trusting Crowley?” Brady began to laugh again. “He couldn’t keep himself out of Lucifer’s hands. What makes you think he can keep you safe? Lucifer’s going to be so pleased when I return you to him,” Brady said sneering at Crowley. “You’re probably not going to be all that happy though.”

“Do the math yourself. If Lucifer wins, he'll turn this place into his kingdom. When the Morningstar cleans house, we all get the mop,” Crowley stated.

“He created us. Why would he destroy us? That makes no sense,” Brady answered smugly.

“Look at who -- at what -- he is. Then take a look at what we are.”

“Maybe you should be a little less worried about our necks and be a little more worried about yours.”

“Has crossed my mind. That's not really the point.”

“Actually, Crowley, that is the point. No one will know greater torment than you. Lucifer is never gonna let you die. As for me, I know the score. I'm dead, whether I tell you anything or not. So I think I'll die on the winning side, thanks.”

“Good talk. Cheers.”

The three of them made their way out of the room. 

“Then went well,” Dean grumbled.

“Well he won't budge, so now I go stick my neck out.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Exactly the kind of desperate swashbuckle I've been trying to avoid. Now I go kick open a hive of demons. This whole bloody ring business better work.”

*-*-*-*-*

“God, the day I've had,” Crowley complained as he blinked back into the house. “Good news. You're going to live forever,” he told Brady.

“What did you do,” Brady asked suspiciously.

“Went over to a demon’s nest, had a little massacre. Must be losing my touch, though. Let one of the little toads live. Oops. Also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night because you and I are -- wait for it -- Lovers in league against Satan.”

Brady winced and Crowley grinned broadly.

“Hello, darling. So, now death is off the table. Now you get to be on the boss's eternal-torment list with little old me.”

“Oh, no. No no, no.”

“Yep. Something else we have in common, apart from our torrid passion of course, craven self-preservation. So, now, why don't you tell me where Pestilence is at?”

*-*-*-*-*

“Yeah, I followed up. Nasty omens, but none of it's Death with a capital "d". Well, just give me a ring if it turns into anything. And, Rufus… You watch your ass out there,” Bobby cautioned hanging up the phone.

“Chin up. Cavalry's arrived,” Crowley announced.

Bobby grabbed the revolver off his desk and cocked it. Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Charming. That won't work on me. Name's Crowley. Maybe you've heard of me?”

“You're Crowley?”

“In the flesh. Er, of a moderately successful Literary Agent out of New York.”

Without another word Bobby shot him.

“Aah,” Crowley exclaimed. “I see you have heard of me. I liked this suit,” Crowley said frowning.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking out for Crowley.”

“Meaning?”

“The boys are on to ring number three, but we still need number four. I'm here to help.”

“You know where Death is?”

“No. Haven't the foggiest.”

Bobby rolled forward and grabbed his shotgun. Cocking it he took aim at Crowley. “Well, then get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas.”

“That's a mite unfriendly, seeing as I could be getting you Death's location in about the time it'd take you to reload.”

“You're just gonna chat some demons up and hope they don't recognize you?”

“God, no,” Crowley answered horrified. “That could get me killed. But there is this little spell that I know.”

“That so?”

“Results are one hundred percent guaranteed.”

“Okay. Then why are you snake-oiling me?”

“Well, it's a little bit… embarrassing. There's this… technicality.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I need a little something to get the magic going.”

“And what's that?”

“You make a wish. I can give you anything you want, mate -- Up to and including Death's coordinates. All I need is…”

“My soul.”

“I've done more with less. Let's just say when they're getting their Grammys, they shouldn't all be thanking God. It's worth it, Bobby. Think.”

“Okay. Here's my counter.” Bobby pulled the trigger and shot Crowley with the shotgun.

“Ow! Bloody hell! Feisty.”

“Get out.”

“I'll give it right back.”

“You think I'm a natural-born idjit?”

“Quite the contrary. Look, you're right to be suspicious. But I'm your ally. Enemy of my enemy and all that. I need the devil back in his stock. In fact, my delicate ass depends on it. I promise you -- temporary loan. I'll give it right back.”

“Why me?”

“Why you what?”

“Why my soul? Why didn’t you offer this deal to one of the boys?”

“Can’t. With Lucifer out of the cage Sam’s soul is off limits, same as Dean’s. Until this gets resolved no demon can make a deal with either of the Winchesters.”

*-*-*-*-*  
Some time later.  
*-*-*-*-*

“It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him.”

Sam pulled the Horsemen's rings out and tossed them on the ground.

“ _Bvtmon tabges babalon._ ”

The ground caved in around the rings and air sucked into the hole rapidly. Sam and Dean look at each other as the hole widened. Sam breathed deeply.

“Sam,” Michael yelled. “It's not gonna end this way! Step back!”

“You're gonna have to make me,” Sam yelled back.

“I have to fight my brother, Sam! Here and now! It's my destiny!”

Sam glanced over to Dean once more before closing his eyes and spreading his arms. Michael lunged forward and grabbed at Sam's jacket; Sam reached out and grabbed onto Michael's arm. Together they fell into the hole. After few moments the hole closed in a blinding flash of light. The Horsemen's rings burned bright in the grass on the ground where the hole was previously. Dean closed his eyes as he leaned back against the Impala. 

Crowley bit his lower lip and slid his eyes closed. He had hoped that both brothers would survive the events unharmed. With Sam gone there was no way Dean would make it. The brothers were too co-dependent. Crowley had managed to save himself but he had failed to save the one person who had helped him after his hell with Lucifer. There was absolutely no way of bringing Sam back from the cage. _Just because you haven’t found a way doesn’t mean there isn’t one,_ his mind told him.

Frowning, Crowley opened his eyes. Maybe he could find a way. Glancing over to Dean Crowley’s frown deepened. Dean needed Sam. Until Crowley could find a way to rescue Sam he would watch out for Dean and ensure no demon attacked the older Winchester. One day, he would find a way to help Sam.


End file.
